


After Hours

by Yellowshoes18



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, Car Sex, Character POV, Dubai, Fluff, Football, Hand Jobs, Hot Tub Sex, Lapdance, M/M, Morning Sex, POV First Person, Party, Pool Sex, Smut, Song Lyrics, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Young Love, chilly being adorable, england under 21s, madders is a puppy, protective chilly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowshoes18/pseuds/Yellowshoes18
Summary: This is something different for me. Call it a concept fic? It's a series of mini fics and drabbles using/based on the songs and lyrics from The Weeknd’s new album, After Hours. I love the album and the idea just came to me to write fics to it/for it. I’ve used the full tracklist, in order, to write one thing per song and all based on the pairing of Ben Chilwell/James Maddison with potential other characters/pairings.Some of the fics are based on themes that I read in the lyrics, and some are more just one line that got me going on an idea. I’m not saying you need to listen to the song while reading the fic, but hopefully it helps a little with the mood on a few of them. I'll be posting 3-4 at a time, each Chapter for one song, tracklist below:1) Alone Again2) Too Late3) Hardest to Love4) Scared to Live5) Snowchild6) Escape from LA7) Heartless8) Faith9) Blinding Lights10) In your Eyes11) Save Your Tears12) Repeat After Me (Interlude)13) After Hours14) Until I Bleed OutUsual Disclaimer - This isn't real. There's no harm or malice intended in this fiction
Relationships: Ben Chilwell & James Maddison, Ben Chilwell/Harry Winks, Ben Chilwell/James Maddison, james maddison/todd cantwell
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	1. Alone Again

**Author's Note:**

> Track 1 is ‘Alone Again’. Not only is it the first track, but I'd actually started writing a drabble for this, so I just expanded it. Probably one of the more literal takes I made. Set at the beginning of Covid-19 quarantine times and Madders isn't coping so well having marooned himself alone in his flat. This is mostly fluffy.

**_Self-isolation Day 1_ **

James hadn't even made it six hours before demanding a video call with Ben.

“Cmonnn, just one photo,” James asked. 

He tilted his head, smiling like an idiot. This was the way he normally talked Ben into doing what he wanted.

“Stop!” Ben didn’t need to see James to know that was exactly what he was doing, “It’s been one day, you don’t need a dick pic yet.”

“What? I never _need_ one, I just want one!”

Ben laughed, rolled his eyes and quickly flashed his camera down. All James got was a blur of what looked like shorts, and possibly a tiny bit of thigh. He put a fist to his mouth, teeth biting.

"Tease!"

"That's all your getting, Madders, it's the middle of the day, behave" Ben raised his eyebrows.

"I'm bored, so now I'm horny and a pic would help..." James let his own camera pan down slightly, showing his hand dipping into the waistband of his joggers.

“Oh my god, are you going to be like this the whole lock-down?”

James considered this briefly, “Yep.”

Ben laughed, he knew better than to argue, “Fine. You’re not having a picture today, you’ll just have to use your imagination.”

“I don’t need my imagination, i’ve got pictures of you on the internet!”

**_Day 10_ **

James knew he shouldn’t complain, he was healthy, he was safe and he was doing the right thing. But isolation wasn’t for him. Sure, Leicester had sent him everything he could need to keep fit, a bike, weights, a tailored program. They had regular check-ins, team meetings over video calls and the team Whatsapp group. James wasn’t geared up to being alone though, or definitely not isolated like this.

He missed seeing everybody at training. Hugging everybody, the niggly little tackles that Cags always did, nutmegging Wilfred, scoring past Kasper. Seeing his Mum and hugging her. He ached for Ben in so many ways. He’d been struggling to sleep without the brunette there to spoon him, soothe him. They’d been video calling each other every day which helped. Ben had gone back home to Milton Keynes, but James didn’t mind, he wondered if he should have done the same thing instead of trying to remain strong and staying in the empty flat. 

Struggling to sleep, the clock already beaming 2am back at him, he toyed with calling Ben. He knew the defender wasn’t awake anymore, he’d already tried spamming his phone with Whatasapp messages, photos of himself in compromising positions hadn’t even had a read receipt. Ben was definitely asleep. He hit the call button anyway. It almost rang to voicemail before a muffled voice answered.

“Mmm?”

“Ben?” James felt his voice wobble slightly.

“Madders?” Ben’s voice instantly clearer, more alert, “James, are you ok?”

It was only ever when he was concerned, or incredibly angry, that Ben used James’ actual name. Not Madders, not baby, not any other nicknames they’d come up with over the years. James felt tears building in his eyes at the concern he heard. If they were together, Ben would have wrapped his arms around him, planted kisses in his hair, squeezed him back to smiling.

“I’m sorry I woke you, I just-” James paused, rubbing his eyes, “It’s nothing, I’m sorry, go back to sleep-”

“-No, tell me what’s wrong? Cmon, I’m awake, it’s ok.” Ben rolled onto his side, getting comfortable, phone pressed under his ear.

“I can’t sleep.”

James sounded younger than his 23 years making that admission. Ben knew the crack in his voice when he said 'sleep' meant James was trying not to cry. Part exhaustion, part emotions. He knew James wasn’t cut out for being alone for prolonged periods and for a world where you couldn’t touch other people.

“I’m here, I can talk to you if you want...wait on the line until I know you’ve fallen asleep.”

“You would?” 

“Yeah, get comfortable baby. I’ll sweet talk you to sleep in no time.”

Ben proceeded to just talk. He told James what he and his Mum had been doing that evening, about the film they’d watched. About what tricks he was trying to do with rounded objects in the house and whether he should post them as a challenge on Instagram. He frequently brought up things they’d done together, things they’d do together when everything got back to normal. He spent quite some time describing in length what their first date night would be. James replied at first, but he knew when there was no response that the blonde had fallen asleep. 

He spoke quietly for a bit, then stopped talking entirely. If he stayed deadly silent, he could just hear James breathing. It was reassuring and Ben found himself lulled back to sleep. 

**_Day 37_ **

James and Ben spent much of their days on video calls to one another, even if they weren’t talking, too busy working out or cooking or whatever. It felt comforting to try and remain close. James needed it. Ben had his family at least, he could get a real hug if he needed one. They were watching the new series of Money Heist together, (Ben loved Toyko and her wild ways but James was always, always Team Professor) when James’ doorbell rang.

A package was left outside his door, a plain looking box. He reappeared in the room, confused. He hadn’t ordered anything but sponsors or companies often just sent him things. Ben showed interest and they paused the episode (Netlix party had been a timely addition!) to open it.

James paused as he’d opened the flap, glancing at his screen. The box smelled like Ben, like his aftershave. The dark-haired man was grinning.

“Keep going.”

The first object James pulled out was a hoodie. The hoodie Ben had been wearing the last time they’d been together physically. It smelled of him and he buried his face in it unashamedly. 

“You sent me a care package?”

“I thought you needed it. Have a look at what else is in there.”

James pulled out some sweets, chocolate, all his favourite things of course, then a photo frame. It was a photo of them from the winter break in Dubai a couple of months back. They were both grinning ear to ear, arms around each other, James leaning into Ben whose head was tilted to meet his. It was perfect.

“Benjamin James Chilwell, you are the best of the best,” James smiled, face close to the camera so he could plant a kiss there. He’d already put the hoodie on. It was slightly baggier on him than Ben and it was as close to getting a hug from him as he was going to get. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**_Day 39_ **

Another knock at the door. Had Ben sent him more stuff? James opened it excitedly and stood there mouth agape.

“Mum?!”

It turned out Ben had phoned his family, told them that they should drive to Leicester and bring him home. He felt all things considered, that wasn’t breaking the rules too much and beside, he hated the idea of James there alone.  On the drive back to Coventry, he sent Ben a Whastapp with more than just heart emojis.

_ You don’t know how happy I am right now. You rang my Mum?! _

Ben returned one immediately.

_ I’ll be happier knowing you’re home. Your Mum definitely loves me by the way! Future son in law brownie points right there eh? _


	2. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 2 - Too Late.
> 
> Set while Madders is still with Norwich, written from his POV. I tried writing this in 1st person POV which is a little terrifying. This is Madders recalling how he and Ben came to be and having realised he wants more than just friends with benefits with Ben. This one is more about some lines towards the end of the song rather than being based around the whole song. There are strong mentions of Todd Cantwell/James Maddison, tiny character mention of Dele Alli and numerous implied Ben/other people without detailing who.

Todd is snoring softly next to me, his arm across me. I’d say it’s keeping me awake, but that’s not true. He looks content. I hardly ever stay here after we sleep together, it never feels right. Todd likes it though, he says it can’t just be sex, he thinks about me too much romantically for that. Ben always says he doesn’t think about me. Not like that anyway. He says it was just a couple of times, just sex. Except we both know it was four...would have been five times if Dele hadn’t interrupted us. And it’s not just sex. I’m not sure it ever has been.

It’s bullshit when he says it. My name is literally his middle name. How does he not think about me every time he has to say it or write it? I can’t stop thinking about him. Benjamin James Chilwell. He knows too. I think about the way his lips felt, his skin, the fact that we hated each other years ago and then cut forward six years and we’re in bed together. I’m about a month older than him but he’s the more serious one. He makes me feel young and stupid. You’ll probably agree after this.

I like Todd, please don’t think I’m heartless enough to sleep with him and not care. But he isn’t Ben. They couldn’t be much further apart as lovers. Ben is confident, he leads, he is assured and every move he makes, whether with his eyes, his hands or his lips, it’s deliberate. He likes to be bossy and I’m happy to let him take charge. 

Todd is the complete opposite when he’s not got a football to hand or dancing. He’s shy, cautious, his every touch is more tender but outside of initiating a kiss, he never makes the first move. He’s respectful. He’s never fucked me, it’s always me fucking him. Which is the reverse to Ben. He’d never say things like ‘bend over and let me fuck you’ and then pull my hair either. Ben does. He makes those things sound sexy too. 

I know, I know, I’m in love. Not with Todd, even if he’s sweet and charming and a good friend. I’m in love with Ben. And he knows. He knew before I told him. But he does everything to avoid it. Which is why I’m still here, in Norwich, sleeping with Todd. I think Todd knows too, he’s never once complained though. He probably hopes I'll come around in the same way I hope Ben will. Love makes fools out of all us.

Todd is pretty, with boyish good looks. He’s long, lithe, a great dancer, hair you can run your fingers through. He’s well spoken, thoughtful. He’s the kind of guy your parents love; safe, honest, loyal. Ben is dark and handsome, dimples mirror a gorgeous white smile and he’s intelligent, posh voice. He could charm any parent he meets, but they’d be initially sceptical of his intentions. Maybe I should have been. Instead, I let him own my body and dominate my thoughts. Even now, even after he told me it wouldn't happen again. And then when it did and he still snuck out while I was asleep.

_And, ooh, I tell myself I should get over you_

_I said ooh, I know I'd rather be all over you_

_I'm trying, trying, but I, I just want your body_

If you’d told thirteen year-old me that in five years time, I’d be on my back in a hotel room at an England camp with Ben Chilwell’s weight pinning me to the bed while we had sex, I’d have laughed and got pissed off. We were rivals for so long. I thought he was too big for his boots, annoying and mouthy during a game. When we were forced to room together a couple of years after for England, we realised we’re actually the same person. A friendship began and grew.

Ben was pretty honest about being bisexual. I was always impressed that he knew so confidently what he wanted. Until he kissed me for the first time, I’m not sure I did. We were together at an England camp, sharing a room. We’d been playing some video game and when he lost, he got annoyed and a poke turned to a tickle, which turned into some sort of wrestling. It ended when he finally pinned my arms down, his legs straddling me and he paused. 

Our first kiss was started by him and it was only brief, but it started something. I wanted to do it again but then we weren’t rooming together again until the end of the week. That day came and I finally got brave enough to kiss him back. We ended up on his bed having sex. My first time with a guy. 

It carried on like that. Whenever we found ourselves alone for a long period, we always ended up in bed or in the shower or up against a wall. Ben always made sure I knew that there were others, girls and boys. Dele implied they'd had a night together without saying the words. He always came back to me though, not them. None of them ever got a second night with him, it’s how I justified what he did. I wanted to think I was special. His. 

Saying _those_ three words for the first time to him was hard. He didn't say anything back at first, then he just said we're friends, that what we'd done wasn't like that. Did it hurt me? Oh yeah...but I never really believed him. He could never look at me when he said stuff like that. He tried to make sure we wouldn't end up alone that much after that but invariably we did. Sometimes I'd break him down, kiss him into submission but as soon as the subject of love and a relationship came up, he ran.

Todd? That first happened after a particularly rough night with Ben. I'd tried again to tell him how I felt and what he meant to me. He blew me off, told me to stop loving in a fantasy and proceeded to go on a binge of kissing other people, taking their numbers. I'd cut my weekend in the Midlands short, back in Norwich in my lonely little flat the club got me. Todd had been there, and we'd always got on. He’s just over a year younger and I know he looks up to me, to Ben. It surprised me when Todd kissed me but it felt good to have somebody want me back. So I let it happen that night. And the following week. And again and again.

Ben is always in my head though. Sometimes I'm lying in bed with Todd when he messages; as if he knows, checking if I was doing anything or sending me nudes. I usually make some excuse to go to the bathroom or kitchen. Todd isn’t stupid, I’m pretty sure he knows why. He’s tried to ask about Ben before, asked what we are to each other. I told him I didn’t know. He went quiet but he didn’t ask again. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s seen some of the messages and photos on my phone. 

I don't think I ever really know where Ben and I stand. As I lay here now, regretting my decision to stay, for giving Todd hope, Ben's name pops up. It’s 2am but he’s calling. And I answer because it's Ben, he's my kryptonite.

"Madders, you awake enough to meet? I need to see you. I’ll text you a hotel address."

I'm in the car before I realise I've left no note, nothing for Todd to see when he wakes alone. I know what you're thinking, I should tell him to fuck off. But it's Ben. I type out various versions of a sorry message to send to Todd before deleting them all. I hope he'll understand that where Ben is concerned, I'm a lost cause.


	3. Hardest to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 3 - Hardest to Love
> 
> This is a direct companion piece to Too Late. This is Ben’s POV, so another attempt at the first person. This is about the pair of them being constantly drawn together, even when other things get in the way/threaten it. It’s mostly about Ben realising he owes Madders a bit more.

James is essentially a puppy. The way he follows me around, does whatever I tell him to...believes whatever I say to him. Stands by me and always comes back for more. It’s been like this ever since we became friends. I’ve known him longer. We hated each other for the first few years whenever we came across each other in the youth games. He seemed like such a cocky little shit. Turns out he felt the same. We were both wrong.

He’s probably the best person I know. He’s got such a big heart and I’ve been such a dick when he’s put it in my hands. I've told him again and again that it's just sex, that it means nothing, that I don't think of him. I make a point of showing him the other people I’ve fucked to emphasise it. Then I message him and get him back into my bed. He always comes so willingly too. 

It's all lies. Have you seen Madders? Try meeting him, seeing those eyes as he looks at you, head slightly cocked in concentration and the way his smile lights up a room and then try not thinking about him for every second of every minute. He's so warm, so friendly. Everybody loves Madders. He's one of those people that you want to be near. For reasons I’m still not sure of, he’s decided that I’m the person he wants to be near. It terrifies me.

Younger me said some pretty shitty things about James behind his back. I said a lot of them to his face on the pitch too. He was Coventry and I was Leicester, hating him was easier than admitting he fascinated me. I thought we were being punished when the England coaches put us rooming together for a week. He was a bundle of energy, very touchy-feely and he smiled like mad. 

Him beating me at FIFA was the catalyst. I got frustrated and then when we started wrestling, like friends do, I found myself on top of him and I had to do it. His blue eyes looking up at me, his mouth still smiling, pink lips inviting me to try them out. I liked that when I did kiss him, he went through the spectrum of surprise to lust in a heartbeat. But then he wanted to lay together that night and that...I wasn’t ready for that. He caught me off guard at the end of that week by kissing me. 

He waited until we were on the bed, naked, to tell me he’d not slept with a guy before. There was something intoxicating about being his first, about how much I wanted it, how eager he was. His body underneath me, his lips on mine, the way his hands sought me out...it all felt like it fit so effortlessly. That’s cheesy right? I didn’t want to think about that, but James did. I thought we were just friends messing around. I told myself that’s what would be a good idea. We were young, that’s what you were supposed to do, right? 

So I slept with Dele, I slept with a girl from school, another girl I knew through Dele, one of our England team mates. Others. I occasionally slept with Madders too, on my terms. I’d get drunk, get bored of being alone and send him photos. He’d invite me over, or meet him in a hotel and then...I’d leave. After sex, when he was asleep, or he went to the bathroom. I ran. At first I told myself it was ok. That he knew it was sex too. But then he told me he loved me, I saw him cry when I left a nightclub with somebody else. I’ve been a dick.

I knew he was with Todd tonight when I called him. Todd is always on Instagram and I saw Madders shoes on his floor. I've got no right to feel jealous, hell, I helped push him into Todd's arms. While I was in too many other people's arms. Young and stupid, right? But I don’t like it. Todd is a good guy, but I can’t believe he gets Madders like I do, that they laugh over nothing and that their kisses are electric. I asked Madders to meet me because I’m not quite so young and stupid anymore. He deserves something real.

_And I’ve been the hardest to love…_

I told him I’d send him a hotel address. I was going to, but I sent him my address instead. He’s on his way and I have about two hours to decide what I’m saying. It’s 4am when he arrives. I see him hesitate in the car park before he buzzes my door.

He’s barely inside before he starts to lift his top off and I have to stop him.

“James, I said I want to talk...”

“You’ve said that before,” he’s pulling his shirt back down, unsure of where to look.

I think I surprise him when I take his hands. I’ve been passionate, rough, but not tender before. His eyes are sparkling, but possibly with tears. I fumble the first few tries at speaking, but he’s patient.

“I’ve been stupid, but you know that. You are amazing and we’re good together. I do think about you, but I think you already know that. You believed it before I did. I guess I just need to know if you’ll let me be better at this?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

His eyes are searching mine and I hope he knows this is the honest me. I lead him to the living room, to a floor-space I’ve filled with pillows. I don’t want sex tonight, I just want to kiss those lips, to feel him against me and to wake up next to him.


	4. Scared to Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 4 - Scared to live. I toyed with what to do with this one a lot. I’m obsessed with the Elton John tribute use of ‘I hope you know that’ in the lyrics which got me thinking about what vibe to go for. This is set in the 2016/17 season, Madders has gone on loan to Aberdeen, he and Ben are struggling to keep their romantic relationship going as Ben is breaking into the Leicester side more too, premier league debut etc.. Time constraint, can’t see each other, lots of missed calls. Decide to take a break - if it’s meant to be, it’ll be etc. and Madders wants him to know it’s ok if he wants to start seeing other people. Ben doesn’t take it quite so well.

James had spent more than a few minutes wondering what was complicated about the timing of life’s events. He was in Scotland, on loan with Aberdeen, playing first team football and getting experience he knew would improve him. Ben had been given his Premier League debut for Leicester too. A Champions League appearance too! They were both making strides to where they wanted to be. Except Ben was 446 miles away. A seven hour drive if you bent the speed limit a little but more than either could manage between games, training, family and media commitments. 

They’d promised to give it a go. They had too. Phone sex, shipping little gifts to one another. Exchanging as many calls and messages as they could, but it wasn’t working. The times seemed to align so infrequently for them. James didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a little lonely up in Scotland too. He socialised with his new teammates, but it was hard being so far away from his family, from Ben. He and Ben would often find their only time to catch up came as both were falling to sleep. They’d go on a video call, prop their phones up on the empty side of the bed and fall asleep together. It helped at first.

_ When I saw the signs, I shoulda let you go _

_ But I kept you beside me _

_ And if I held you back, at least I held you close (yeah) _

_ Should have known you were lonely _

*******

Christmas presented a rare chance for the two to meet. No more missed calls, voicemails that exceeded the time limit, lengthy messages and empty, cold sides of the bed. James tried to juggle seeing his family, and close friends, as much as possible with spending every night and spare minute with Ben. It meant some late nights and even earlier mornings, but it was the closest they’d felt in three months time. 

_ I hope you know that (oh), I hope you know that (oh) _

_ I'll be praying that you find yourself _

_ I hope you know that (oh), I hope you know that (oh) _

_ We fell apart right from the start _

“Ben…” James whispered, breath misting in the air, the window in the flat was coated in condensation.

They’d spent all night huddled together, limbs intertwined, neither quite sure who’s leg started or ended where. It was partly for warmth but mostly for comfort. Neither wanted to address the issue but with daylight breaking, a weird grey light outside possibly hinting at a light layer of snow, James finally spoke up.

“Mmm?” Ben’s head found the blonde’s neck, lips ghosting over it in a kissing motion.

“One of us has to say it right?” he turned to make direct contact with Ben’s green-blue eyes.

“Madders, please.” Ben buried his head into James’ chest, pulling the duvet up further.

They both knew today was the last day. James would have to set off back to Scotland tonight and Ben had a game tomorrow. Their time together, their little bubble, it had to end again.

“Ben...” James sighed, stroking the brunette’s hair, he always enjoyed doing this when it wasn’t gelled, “This is too hard, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” said the duvet-covered head.

James peeled the duvet back slowly, stroking Ben’s cheek. “I don’t either, but have either of us really been happy the last four months?”

“Do I not make you happy?”

“Do you even need to ask that?” James used a finger to tilt his chin up so that he could kiss him, “This, here, it’s been the happiest I’ve felt since the summer. You make me insanely happy.”

“Then what, what do we need to talk about? I’m happy too, can’t we just leave it...”

“I just think we’re putting too much pressure on ourselves to try and keep this going when we’re so far apart. It’s so hard when I’m there and we miss each other’s calls and then we’re too tired to get more than a word out.”

“It’s only another five months, Madders, then you’ll be back.” Ben rarely felt so out of control.

“We hope. We don’t know. Ben, I’m not trying to end anything...I just....the cliche is that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. I think that’s us. I think we can just focus on football until May and then see where we land.”

Ben let his head drop, he didn’t want the blonde to see his eyes as they welled up. Things were going so well in every other aspect. He didn’t understand why this had to be the exception. He didn’t know how to tell Madders that he didn’t agree. He thought they should keep fighting. Even if he knew how tired it was making them both. All the missed calls, waking the other up to return them.

_ I should have made you my only _

_ When it's said and done _

**_***_ **

Ahead of the New Year, James went back to Scotland and Ben tried not to let it bother him. James had been really honest about where he stood, but the upcoming five months seemed like such a drag. They’d used their remaining few hours ahead of that by imprinting one another’s bodies onto their brains, for easy recall. There’d been one final conversation.

_ “Ben, you know me, I’m in this, 100%. But I don’t want to be the one who holds you back, stops you getting what you need because I’ve made a career decision. Call me, message me, do whatever you want and then in May, I’ll be back and we can see what’s happened. But if you find somebody who can give you what I can’t right now, I won’t hold that against you. I want you to live, to enjoy everything. Not miss out because I’m in a different country.” _

_ “So this is a goodbye?” Ben held him tightly. _

_ “No. This is a...pause? I think we’re end game, Chilly. I just need to see if the universe agrees. And I don’t want you to be lonely in the meantime…” _

_ “This is so stupid. We’ve only just figured this...us...out.” _

_ “I know.” James kissed him and this kiss felt like a goodbye, temporary or not, “May will come around so quickly and we’ll know what it means for us.” _

_ “Ok.” _

_ “Ok,” James held the dark-haired boy. _

**_***_ **

Madders kept his promise. He returned from his loan spell in May, still single, and asked to meet Ben. They kept the location neutral, somewhere they could talk without just ripping each other’s clothes off first. Ben was early, but surprised when he pulled up and James was already there. The other man was sat on the bonnet of his Range Rover. He titled his head and smiled as Ben exited the car. It was James’ smile that melted his heart every time. They exchanged a wave and moved closer. 

Ben pulled him into a hug, tucking Madders’ head into the gap between his neck and collarbone. He felt the blonde’s arms wrap around him and he let his fingers creep to the back of Madders’ head to hold him even closer. Five months and it was like nothing had changed. Something kept drawing them back to one another and Ben started to believe in the end game comment that James had whispered on a colder, lonelier morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end hug is based around this image - https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DpzJT3RXUAAGmhY.jpg


	5. Snowchild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 5 - Snowchild. This one has really grown on me over time. This fic kinda follows on from the timeline started in the Scared to live one (loosely anyway). Focuses on (the fictional idea of) Chilwell during the 17/18 season getting caught up in the famous lifestyle a little, losing sight of football, he and Madders haven’t been together properly for a while even though he is back in Norwich now. Ben's in with the wrong crowd. Follows the season loosely. This is a little melancholic/sad but there's a fluffy ending.

**_August 2017_ **

James waited, biting the skin around his fingers. It was a bad habit he had when he felt nervous or excited. He was pretty sure this time it was just excitement. He'd driven back to the Midlands a day earlier than planned, using the spare key Ben kept in his mailbox to get into the Leicester player’s flat. He'd made an espresso to calm himself down.

But then Ben wasn't back yet so he had a second and a third. Caffeine and adrenaline both coursing through his veins, he stood, paced around, sat down again. Threw a tennis ball, moved into the kitchen, back to the sofa. Where was Ben damn it?!

As if by magic Ben entered at that moment and James sprang to his feet, lunging at the dark-haired boy who had just enough time to brace himself for the contact.

"Madders? You're early, I thought-" said Ben, stopping abruptly.

The flat was covered in balloons, Leicester City colours, blue and white. There were flowers on the table, a card and a little fox teddy bear.

"I might have been tipped off that you've been named the first choice left-back for the season, given the number 3…" James fiddled with his training top, biting his lip in anticipation of a reaction.

"You did this for me?"

"Chilly, it's huge. You're going to be a first team Premier League player this season! And I…" he moved closer to Ben, hands around his waist, "I might have been told that I'll be a key first team player this year too."

"What?!" Ben kissed him, "Madders, that's great and about time, you deserve it!"

“I feel like it might be the start of the next step...”

Ben rubbed his cheek, “You’ll be killing it in the Premier League soon, I’d bet everything on it.”

"So we're celebrating tonight, right?" 

"Damn right. We'll go out for a drink, some fancy steak or something."

There was a long, tender kiss, the two comfortable in the silence of their mutual good news. Until Ben dipped a few fingers under James' training top.

"But first…" Ben whispered the next words, "Take off all your clothes…"

**_November 2017_ **

It should have been a warning sign. Ben had enjoyed three months of first team Premier League football. He’d started to enjoy the reputation that came with it too. Nightclubs let him in on priority entry, gave him VIP areas. People wanted autographs, girls (and a fair few guys) wanted his attention and he got some decent clothes for free too. He was getting caught up in it.

Madders accompanied him at first. He should have seen the signs that it wasn’t really what James wanted. The glances he gave him when Ben could barely get up the next morning, hungover and tired. His goals for Norwich had dried up a little in the last month and he was frustrated, feeling he could be doing more. Ben thought taking him out, having a drink would help. The first night that Madders left early to go and sleep, he should have gone with him. It became too normal after that and they spent less time together as the month moved on.

**_January 2018_ **

The music was a dull blur in the background as Ben sank another drink. He didn’t even know what it was, whether he’d paid for it, or somebody else. He just downed it in one and enjoyed the burn in his throat. Sent off; sent off in a Premier League game. The first red card of his career, even if it came from two yellows. He was angry. It wasn’t what he’d planned. 

He’d stayed in London after the game, claiming he’d had plans. He didn’t, but he could make some. There was always at least one of his England Under 21 teammates out drinking in a VIP area. He didn’t want to think about his mistake. And he definitely didn’t want to go home and think about the argument he’d had with Madders yesterday. Especially when he thought the blonde had a point.

“Wanna dance?” said the leggy brunette, leaning in, breath hot on his ear.

Ben looked up. It had been a while since he’d been with a girl. This one was attractive, the usual type that being a Premier League footballer attracted. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He rejected the call from Madders, it would sit ignored, like the messages too.

“No.”

“Really?” she wasn’t used to rejection.

“I don’t want to dance  _ with you,  _ but I will. Anything to distract,” Ben snatched a bottle of vodka, the most expensive the club had, and took a long swig before allowing the girl to lead him off. 

***

James’ frowned, hearing Ben’s happy, lairy voicemail message. The first time he’d got voicemail, he’d shrugged it off, assumed the brunette was busy. He knew he’d been sent off, he’d dropped him messages of support, telling him to get over it. James looked down at his Man of the Match award, he’d scored Norwich’s only goal today to win a key game for them. Ben hadn’t sent him anything about it and he’d not asked about meeting up.

Some of the Norwich lads wanted to go out for a drink or two, celebrate. He’d planned to decline but he called back Todd Cantwell and asked where they were meeting.

***

It was about 1am when James got back. He was slightly tipsy but he’d known when to call it a night. He flopped onto the bed, less amused that he’d still not heard anything from Ben. He typed out a message, deleted it and called Ben instead.

Ben was at the bar, buying yet more drinks. He’d made a big deal of buying drinks for everybody in the VIP area, so everybody wanted to hug him. The DJ gave a shoutout for England’s next big thing at fullback and it felt good. He could forget about the red card, about the well-meaning, but somewhat patronising, advice he’d got from the older players. He was very drunk now, had left his phone on the table, so when it started ringing, he didn’t even know.

“Chilly, finally-” James paused, a thumping beat, distorted noise coming through the speaker. He was in a nightclub, again.

“Hello?” it was a female voice.

James hung up, throwing his phone aside and rubbing his eyes. Another weekend alone loomed ahead.

**_March 2018_ **

It was a rare Saturday night staying in for Ben. Especially after a convincing away win for Leicester. The game had been played in torrential rain though and when he eventually got back, the thought of going back out didn’t appeal. None of the lads were up for it, and after some run-ins on recent nights, he didn’t think he should go out on his own. 

He was just fishing the last of the miniature bottles of alcohol (how did you always end up with so many in Christmas presents?) when he focused on the television. It was the Football League show and the words that had made him focus? ‘A hat-trick from their top scorer, James Maddison, wasn’t enough for Norwich today as they took on Hull’. 

Ben paused, a lump in his throat. When had he last called Madders? Not just sent him a short, to the point message. He watched the blonde score a 21-minute hattrick in that purple kit (it suited him, naturally) and touched his phone in his pocket. A hattrick. He should have spotted that, messaged him...called him. It had been January since they’d spent a night together and even that ended with Ben yelling at him. James had been suggesting that maybe Ben should cut back on the nights out, drinking and he’d snapped. 

The short post-match interview made him feel even more guilty. The blonde wasn’t happy, his hattrick didn’t mean much if they’d not won and with Norwich still only mid-table, it wasn’t going how they hoped. He wanted to give Madders a hug, he probably should have gone to his flat, but it seemed like the wrong move. He’d shunned him lately for some bigger names, too many people who wanted him to buy them a drink in exchange for telling him how great a season he was having. And here was Madders, looking fitter and focused than ever. 

Ben switched off the television, put some house music on, opened a miniature of tequila and messaged some people he’d befriended in a club a couple of weeks back. They were going out in an hour and said he was welcome to join. 

***

James had hoped that a hat-trick might have got Ben’s attention, but he also knew the brunette was stubborn. They’d both let their contact lapse over the last couple of months, since the night a random girl answered his phone and Ben failed to explain why. He thought about sending a text, acknowledging Leicester’s win, but then his family were ready to go out and eat and he deliberately put his phone away.

**_May 2018_ **

Ben woke up, feeling sick, forced to acknowledge the mess he’d made. In a hotel room of all places too. Leicester had suffered a heavy defeat to Crystal Palace and he’d gone out drinking again. He knew there was likely a call to come from somebody at the club, he’d got close to starting a fight last night.

Their season had tapered off, results weren’t coming anymore and that hadn’t been the first particularly painful defeat. Ben was ashamed to admit that he remembered using the words ‘ _ Mate, I’m a Premier League footballer, get the fuck out of my way’  _ last night. The dark-haired girl and guy asleep in the bed alongside told him that he’d fucked up in almost every way last night. Something had to give.

***

James heard his phone ringing, but was caught up playing FIFA with his school friends and didn’t get to it in time. He forgot about it until they all logged off an hour later. Retrieving his phone from between the sofa cushions, he paused at the missed call and voicemail notification. Missed call and voicemail from Ben Chilwell.

He paced the room as he relayed the message a second time. 

_ ‘James...I-’ _ a sniffle on the other end,  _ ‘I’m sorry.’ _

When he tried calling the younger man back, he got no answer and he couldn’t find the words to use in a message. 

**_June 2018_ **

Ben had kept his head since the season ended. His holiday still took him abroad, but he abstained from alcohol after that week. He trained every day, whether it was running and gym work or a session with a fitness coach. Something had snapped inside him and he knew if he’d carried on the way he had last season, he’d blow everything. So this summer he'd worked out more than ever, barely gone out to do anything that wasn't working out or with family and close friends. 

He was close to completing today’s brutal set of interval runs, still back in Milton Keynes for the off-season, when his phone started ringing. He could barely breathe anyway, collapsing onto the dress and retrieving his phone from his shorts. ‘Madders’ was the name on the screen. The photo accompanying the call was the two of them, arms around each other in England kits. He hesitated before answering, it had been a couple of months.

“Hey...”

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” said James.

“Didn’t think you’d call”

“Well I have so...how’s my favourite left-back doing?”

Ben felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck at that familiar voice. He could picture the grin on James’ face. “All good, bro, just putting in the work. You?”

“I had to call you first, I’m leaving Norwich, I’m on my way to finalise the contract details now. Premier League here I come, baby! The dream!” 

Ben laughed, holding the phone away from his ear as James made some excited noises loudly down the line.

“I saw the rumours. Congrats Madders! Spurs?”

“What?” James sounded incredulous, “No...Chilly, I’m calling you...I’m on my way to Leicester. Right now actually.”

Ben’s heart had just started slowing down but it had its work cut out again now as he processed the news. 

“But...you could have had Champions League football?”

“I don’t really know how close Spurs were, Leicester have been much more aggressive in chasing me. So...what do you think?”

“I’m delighted for you, I’m just surprised with the other clubs chasing you.”

“You didn’t think I was going to join Everton or Spurs did you, really?” Madders laugh disappeared and he let the static on the line linger, “You don’t get it do you, Chilly? Sure, Leicester made the exciting presentation, the ideas are there, the squad, the infrastructure. But you’re there too.”

“Well, yeah, it helps that you’ve got us all England lads and-”

“Ben, shut up will you! I want to give us a go again, seriously this time, not just the sex...do you understand now?”

Ben said nothing, this was everything he’d hoped earlier. At the start of the darker days. He’d made a promise to focus on playing well, nailing down a permanent spot in the Leicester starting eleven. He hadn’t thought about Madders as much. He’d missed him though.

“I missed my best friend, Madders. You...you don’t know how bad it got this year, I got so caught up in...drinking, stupid one night stands. I need to focus on football again. On something that's good for me.”

_ On someone that's good for me, like you.  _ Ben left that bit out.

“I know, Ben, I missed you like hell too, you know? I get it, you needed me to ground you and I gave up too easily. I wasn’t there. But you didn't let me. I can be now though. I needed the Aberdeen move, this last season to figure out my career. So...can we? Try again I mean...I haven’t booked a hotel for tonight. I was kinda banking on you letting me stay with you.”

There was another pause on the line as Ben considered it. He wasn’t sure he’d earned this. He felt like it should be him delivering that kind of speech.

"We can at least talk can't we?" said James quietly, he'd taken the pause as a rejection.

"Yeah. Talking sounds nice, it's been way too long."

"150 days since you stopped answering my texts, calls…"

“Yeah…"I Ben choked up a little hearing that Madders had kept count, "I know it's been a while but...I tried.” 

James knew what he meant. The voicemail last month.

“If you come over, I’ll cook, you still like steak right?” He offered the olive branch.

“Almost as much as I like you,” James responded, silently celebrating to himself.

“I’m serious this time, I hope you can hear that. I didn’t always show it before, but if we do this, I’m all in this time. I’m yours.”

James squeezed his eyes shut, a smile threatening to stretch wider than his face.

"I've always been yours."


	6. Escape from LA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 6 - Escape from LA. This is set during the pre-season of the 2019/20 season. James had been away with the England Under-21s so was given an extended summer break and Instagram implies he spent it in LA. I like the vibe of the song and decided to take the loose connection. This fic is pure smut, based on the two seeing each other for the first time in a few weeks.

James stepped into the arrivals hall, feeling refreshed. His short break to LA had been just what he’d needed to brush away the disappointment of the England Under-21s and to get him back in the mood for Premier League football with Leicester. The club were sending a chauffeur to pick him up, ensuring he had no additional stress with pre-season starting in just two days. 

He stood on his tiptoes looking for a sign with his name on. He spotted the sign, Mr Maddison, letters written out neatly in black and he hauled his bags towards the suited man, not particularly paying him any attention. James was trying to keep the stupid luggage trolley going in a straight line and not running over various embracing couples and families.

James was actually trying to read the texts coming through on his phone as he reached the man holding the sign.

“Your car awaits, sir.”

James froze at the familiar voice, heart skipping a beat. Ben, here in the flesh, dressed like a chauffeur, hat and everything, here for him. Sporting a wide smile, damn he looked good. James threw himself at the other man, sending the sign flying out of Ben’s hands. Ben had to take a step back to support the blonde, whose legs were squeezing his sides, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He knew the clattering of the sign had made a few people look at them, but he didn’t care. 

“Madders, I need to breathe!” Ben laughed as he let the man down gently.

“The club said they were sending a driver?!” James had felt pretty chilled walking out of passport control, but that was entirely replaced with adrenaline, excitement. He beamed from ear to ear and hugged Ben again.

“I might have missed you...” Ben smirked. It had been almost seven weeks since they’d been last in the same room. "I told them to cancel their car and that I'd come instead."

“Cmon then driver, better take me home. Got some lost time to make up for,” James winked.

_ You just wanted my attention, _

_ You just wanted my affection _

James was slightly surprised to see that Ben had driven  _ his  _ Range Rover here to collect him. Ben’s argument was that it was more comfortable for a long journey, and joked that he had considered bringing the Lamborghini instead which sent the midfielder off into a rant about how he was definitely not letting Ben touch his Lambo. 

Clearing Heathrow/the M25 was slow progress but the two men barely noticed. Sure, they’d been calling each other a lot and Ben had been able to see lots of Madders’ tanned body on both Instagram and the Whatsapp messages he got, but this was a much better way to catch-up. That would be if Ben could concentrate more on the actual driving part. 

James was still wearing shorts and he kept playing with them, pulling them up, more and more leg on show. Fingers lacing the brown skin, closer and closer to his groin.

“Can you behave!” Ben barked, shielding his eyes with a hand at the side of his face.

“No,” James was laughing as he replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was getting such a sexy driver!”

“If you want us to get home in one piece, you need to stop touching yourself.”

“Ok. So do you want to hear about the dream I had on the plane? You were on top of me, slowly waking me up by sucking my-”

“Madders, cmon!” Ben smacked his leg, enjoying the sound of his hand on the bare flesh. The midfielder’s hands slapped back at him playfully.

“You’re working, you really should be more professional,” he was laughing as he tried to get the sentence out.

The car was connected to James’ iPhone, playing whatever was on his Spotify account at random. A new song began playing out into the car and he started singing along, making Ben shake his head and laugh. 

“I danced for you to this song, remember...” he let the words hang, seeing Ben’s throat quiver.

Ben shuffled in the driver’s seat, trying to conceal the way his skinny jeans were suddenly feeling tighter. Of course James had spotted that though, his eyes had only been looking at Ben’s crotch or his eyes, nothing else. From the corner of his eye, he saw Madders lick his lips and felt more blood rushing south of his brain.

_ You got me tattooed on your mind _

_ You just want me all the time _

“Fuck it,” Ben threw the car onto the sliproad that they had virtually already passed, driving halfway up it before throwing the car down a little service track. It stopped in front of a gate but it was sheltered from the motorway by the trees and bushes.

“What are you doing?” 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded, flipping a lever that sent the passenger seat flying back into a reclined position.

Taking his t-shirt off was easy, he wasn’t even sure where he dropped it as Ben’s hungry mouth was kissing his arms and his neck before it found his lips. The contact was frenzied, the weeks apart showed in the frantic swapping of lips on top of one another, tongues probing and wanting to re-familiarise themselves. 

James could feel bare flesh now, straddling him in the wide car seat. Had they stopped kissing long enough for Ben to slide off his jeans and remove his shirt and then climb on top of him? He wasn’t sure how it had happened, or how he’d managed to keep breathing, lungs now fighting to claw in more air. Ben’s fingers were struggling to undo James’ shorts at this angle, hand pushing him down further onto the seat. 

James allowed himself a pause as the defender removed his shorts. The dark-haired man looked so beautiful when he was in this desperate state. He’d had plenty of opportunity to fuck in LA if he’d wanted it, both girls and guys. But they didn’t have anywhere near the appeal of the man removing his underwear and putting his cock in his mouth. LA began to feel like a distant memory already as he closed his eyes and moaned into his fist.

_ Well this place is never what it seems _

_ Take me out, LA _

_ Take me out of LA _

“Ohh, Ben,” he ran a hand through the other man’s hair, longer than when he’d last seen him, not as styled as normal. He’d likely been up since 5am to make it to the airport on time.

Ben released his cock, wiping spittle from his chin with a smirk. Sitting up, James had more space and went to position himself so that Ben could prepare to fuck him. He was surprised when the dark-haired boy shook his head. He leaned over for a longer, more passionate kiss.

“I want to ride you,” he said, relishing the desire in James’ eyes as his brain processed the sentence. It wasn’t an exclusively top/bottom relationship, but Ben liked to be in control and it always seemed like James enjoyed that even more, “I want you inside me.”

James was wide-eyed, nodding in agreement, no words coming out of his open mouth. He propped himself on his elbows and watched as Ben prepared. He reached around to work one, then two fingers inside himself, while using his other hand to slowly jerk James’ cock. James doubted he needed the help to stay hard, but he wasn’t complaining.

His tattooed arm placed itself on Ben’s hip as the brunette positioned himself just above James’ cock. He helped guide it inside of him, slowly inching further down. The slow pace at which he did it was like extra foreplay to James who groaned and chewed his lip. He fought back the urge to thrust upwards until he felt Ben's muscles settling and relaxing. 

Ben steadied himself, putting one hand on the car roof, one on James’ chest. He used his hips and thighs to move himself up and down the cock filling him, making use of the tight space they were in. Ben’s hair was falling onto his face now, expletives and just murmurings of James’ name leaving his lips. The way his own cock brushed James’ taut stomach every time he pushed down drove him crazy. 

James didn’t need him to say anything to know he needed some help. He reached up to wrap a fist around Ben’s cock, holding it firmly, massaging the shaft. It pulsated in his fist, pre-come already pooling out at the head. Ben had thrown his head back now, fucking himself faster with James’ cock. He came first, making a mess of James’ stomach and moving less steadily, forcing the man beneath to help support him, enjoying the squeezing and pressure as Ben caught his breath.

One hand still on Ben’s hips, James put his other hand on Ben’s chest and took control. He was thrusting up into the brunette, whose eyes were rolled back in pleasure. Seeing him in this dishevelled, lusty state drew James to his own climax faster, fingers digging into flesh at the release. He slumped back, spent, and it wasn’t long until Ben collapsed on top of him.

They could have stayed like this for longer. Ben’s weight pressing down on James, the blonde’s cock still inside of him, softening. While this location felt secluded, neither dared risk somebody pulling in to check on them in this state. The coffee shop stop that James had enforced on them earlier had proved helpful as they used some spare napkins to clean their sticky mess, before they could re-dress. He reminded Ben that he was right, as usual. It had been an essential stop.

It turned out getting dressed in a car was a lot harder than getting undressed when you’re horny. Ben ended up falling into the backseat trying to pull his skinny jeans back on and instead of James helping him, he was just creased over laughing. Finally, after several elbows smashed into windows and more falling, both were fully dressed again. 

“You have no idea how much I was counting down the days, Madders," Ben whispered, their heads together, eyes roaming one another’s for the things they weren’t saying out loud.

One more lazy kiss and they were back on the road. James got excited upon finding some Haribo in his glove compartment, thankful for the sugar and caffeine that were stopping him crashing. He fed Ben some too, even jokingly sliding a candy ring onto his finger after a very cheesy, fake proposal from the passenger seat. James’ car smelled like sugar, sex and the after-shave they’d hastily sprayed to mask the other smells. Mostly though, it smelt like Ben and that was fine for James.

_ Got the money, got the cars, got the ceiling with the stars _

_ Got everything I wanted _

_ But I'd be nothing without you _

Ben’s driving was certainly less erratic now. He was content to let James just sing along to the music, their hands laced together, resting on the console between the seats. James was scrolling through photos from the past two weeks in LA, the memories of sunshine-soaked, alcohol and fast car filled days, of a holiday. This...here with Ben though was home and he was happy to be back.


	7. Heartless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 7 - Heartless. One of the two that I struggled with the most in terms of what fic/storyline to go for. I feel like I've done a lot of melancholy with these two already (which just isn't them) and the lyrics didn't really work for much else. So I'm going with the vibe and the beat on this one rather than lyrical content. 
> 
> This is just dirty smut. Set around Chilwell's 21st and a romp in a strip club. Brief-ish appearances/mentions of Harvey Barnes, Mason Mount, Harry Winks, Dele Alli, Jack Grealish and Declan Rice. Possessive/demanding Ben is at large. Madders had some big Magic Mike inspiration here though.

This was technically Ben’s third birthday party. You’re only 21 once, right? He’d had the nice, formal family gathering, a fancy meal. Then there’d been a party back in Milton Keynes with his old friends, a do in a nightclub. This one was turning into his favourite so far though. 

He’d let Madders organise one for his Leicester teammates and some of the England boys to come along to. It had been a club and bar crawl of sorts, a stop at the casino and for the hardcore ones who could handle alcohol and didn’t have family commitments, the final stop was a strip club. 

The remaining group were all his age or younger. It was him, Madders (who’d only just turned 21, so this was a joint celebration of sorts), Jack Grealish, Demarai Gray, Harvey Barnes, Dele Alli, Harry Winks and then the barely legal drinking age combination of Declan Rice and Mason Mount. The latter two definitely hadn’t been in a strip club before and stared, transfixed for the first half an hour. 

They’d spent some time out watching the girls dance, and even a guy (trust Madders to find an inclusive strip club!) before a host showed them to a large, private room. Everything was red velvet cladded and three stripper poles adorned a stage above the plush seating area. Madders made a speech, a toast to the birthday boy, kissing him openly. They were one of the worst kept secrets across the England setup so nobody was surprised. 

Naturally, such a speech warranted even more alcohol and the drunk men grew steadily even more drunk. Mason and Declan were sitting in a corner of the room, huddled together, not entirely at ease in the location but very much comfortable virtually sitting atop one another. They were watching the blonde stripper that was dancing around the pole in front of them, but whether they were enjoying it was another matter. They definitely found plenty of things to say to each other that drew their attention away from watching the dancer. They tipped generously, but again whether it was because they'd loved it or they just felt bad was unclear.

On the middle of the plush, long red seat, Ben sat sipping his vodka from the bottle, drunk, horny and suitably loving his own view. James was on the stage, using the middle pole, dancing and grinding to the song blasting out on the speakers. Harvey was on stage next to him, trying to follow his lead.

Jack was quietly observing. Not just the show though, but also watching Ben watch it. He noted just how intent Ben was staring at Madders, despite the other man dancing with him. Jack also realised that Ben’s eyes had not once strayed across to look at Dele or Harry. They were using the remaining stripepr pole, Winksy being taught, sort of anyway, how to pole dance by the former Milton Keynes starlet. It was less erotic than it was amusing, but it was hard to ignore. Yet here Ben was, eyes glued to the slender number ten. Jack stood up, stalked over to the stage and climbed up.

Harvey had plenty of energy and enthusiasm for dancing with the pole, with another man, but it was nothing compared to Madders. The older man had taken to it naturally. He’d already figured out how to do a spin that pushed out his arse and made his top ride up. Ben squirmed slightly at the flash of abs. Jes and Harvey smiled at one another as they traded places, arms brushed and faces came close. James didn’t really look at Harvey though, he looked through him towards Ben. Harvey was just another tool in what was very extended foreplay for the birthday boy’s benefit.

As Jack tried to insert himself in between the pair, James glanced at Ben. The defender had pursed his lips. James continued, trying to put Harvey back between him and the Aston Villa player. Jack was very drunk, swaying unsteadily, using the pole to hold himself steady but reaching out for James, all hands. As James squatted down and attempted to twerk, Ben’s face turned back to a smile, even letting loose a laugh as he threw some money at the midfielder. 

Harvey had stepped off the stage, feeling a little awkward at the third arrival. He spotted Demarai Gray hovering near the entrance and moved toward him. It left Madders dancing away, performing his own show, with Jack positioned incredibly close. Using the pole to spin himself around, James leant back against it, swinging his hips and slowly, painfully slowly thought Ben, opening his shirt, one button at a time until it exposed his chest, his stomach, his jeans riding dangerously low over his hips.

Jack positioned himself behind Madders, putting a hand on his bare hip and pretending to fuck him fr behind while groping his arse. Ben jumped up and stood next to the stage in a flash as Madders moved away from Jack, nervously looking at the defender.

“Uh-uh, you don’t touch him like that, Jack,” Ben barked, “That’s only me.”

Everybody else in the room stopped what they were doing at the raised voice. Dele and Harry, now sat on the edge of the stage, looked particularly uncomfortable. Declan and Mason simply looked confused and made their excuses to leave. Dele did something similar, although Winsky did look as if he was passing into the realms of sleep. Jack watched the others leave before he spoke up.

“He’s yours?” Jack said, looking at James again, "So I'm not going to be fucking him tonight?"

“Yes he's with me. You know this, Jack," Ben looked at Madders, hoping to reassure him and squaring up to Jack, "You won't be going near him unless that's what he wants, understood?"

The midfielder laughed, he was mumbling under his breath. Something about how he thought he was Ben’s once but that didn’t seem to count for much. Jack puffed his cheeks out, putting his hands up defensively and backing away from Madders. The blonde stood awkwardly next to the pole as Jack hopped off stage and left the room, presumably to sulk or get another drink. 

“I’m sorry,” Madder said, rubbing his chin, “This night was supposed to be special...fun at least.”

“It has been,” Ben pulled him forward by the edge of his open shirt and kissed him, “Tonight has been so much fun. He’s just not a great drunk sometimes and I didn't like how he touched you.”

“I didn’t even get to do my big reveal...”

Ben’s eyebrows raised. “There was more? Your sexy pole dancing almost made me explode already.”

James glanced down and Ben put a hand around his cock, it's outline clear against his jeans. James titled his cock, tongue poking out to lock his lips.

“Sit down and let me finish.”

Ben obeyed, but casually pulled the shirt off Madders’ back as he returned to the red sofa to leave him topless. Everything in the room was red, casting a pink haze over the blonde’s upper body that somehow accented every muscle and dimple. Ben let his hands roam over the sofa, he had to keep them off himself for fear of coming too soon.

Getting back into the rhythm of the music, James let his hips move in time with the beat, resuming his impressive amateur pole-dance. He used it to spin around, bending back to accent his abs and showing the curve in his back. Sinking down the pole, he lay back on the stage, thrusting his hips up and turning his head to look at the dark-haired boy who was breathing heavily, eyes blinking rapidly, transfixed.

Madders grinned and let his hands rub down his own body, feeling the skin tingle, knowing his every move was being watched. Fingers brushing his own nipple, he moaned and writhed, feeling the intense eye contact from beneath the stage. His hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button fly as slowly as he dared. He rolled onto his front, pushing up onto all fours to wiggle that arse again. Holding that position, he pulled his jeans down, revealing a little more skin. 

Pushing himself up by his arms, he leant back against the pole, doing his best to remove the jeans in a sexy way. It didn’t entirely work, but Ben’s cock throbbed at the effort he was putting in and the sight he was left with as the jeans were cast aside. Madders stood in nothing but an incredibly skimpy gold g-string. Ben tilted his head, chewed his lip, powerless to do anything else but stare.

“You know birthday boys get a free lap dance in this club,” James said, hooking a finger into the waistband of the gold underwear and pulling it lower, teasing Ben further.

“Fucking get over here, Madders!”

Complying, he allowed Ben to spin him around before he leant over the dark-haired boy, body close enough to brush clothed skin. James yelped slightly as Ben brought a hand down on his arse, relishing the jiggle as his hand met bare skin. Kneeling on the plush carpet, James parted the defender’s legs, moving his body in with one motion and leaning up, wrapping his arms around Ben’s neck. He got close enough to kiss the defender, but instead, left him panting and frustrated, standing up and turning around to bend over, pushing his arse back and grinding.

“Madders, stop, I need more,” Ben’s voice pleaded.

The midfielder sat down on his lap, legs straddling his side. The way the dark-haired boy lunged for his lips told him that his lap dance had been pretty good. The kissing was desperate, messy, breathy. Madders broke free long enough to attack Ben’s neck, creeping up to his ear, to whisper.

“You need this?” his hand pressed down on Ben’s crotch, rubbing through his jeans.

The birthday boy writhed, nodding furiously. He was glad the room was empty, the desperate, guttural noises leaving his mouth would have embarrassed him otherwise. Madders lifted himself up momentarily, to help remove Ben’s jeans. Sitting back down, he ground his own erection against Ben’s and the noises grew louder. Ben's hands were on James' hips, and he rolled his own forward to force more contact between their cocks.

James’ teeth pulled at Ben’s lower lip as he rubbed the tip of the defender's cock that was now poking out the end of his boxers. The dark-haired boy’s hips bucked at the contact and James found his fingers immediately sticky. Ben buried his face against James’ shoulder as a hand reached inside his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. The blonde wrapped a hand around it, stroking it, pace quickening in time with Ben’s breath. 

His lips were leaving a mark on Madders’ neck, but they stopped him moaning loudly out into the room, and the harder he kissed and sucked, the faster the blonde’s hand moved up and down his cock. When Ben came into James’ hand, he nipped the blonde’s shoulder, hips jerking and almost bucking the midfielder off his lap. 

James held steady, letting Ben ride it out before kissing him again. 

"You look fucking incredible," the birthday boy moaned into his ear, panting.

"So I should keep the gold pants?"

"Oh yeah! And we might need to get a stripper pole for home use too…"


	8. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 8 - Faith. One of the first songs that made me fall in love with this album...but I found it the hardest to pick an idea for. I had ideas against every song except this one. I don't really enjoy pulling these two apart but the standout lyric for this track is perfect and I had to have it in here. Ben is a bit stupid in this and Madders, well, he's adorable as ever but it feels too familiar. Set at the start of the year, something happened that saw Chilwell dropped for a game (along with Choudhury) so I went with that as a starting idea here. I imply a slight flashback to chapter 5 - Snowchild and the events in that. 
> 
> The usual disclaimer - Not real and no harm intended

_I've been sober for a year but now it's time for me,_   
_To go back to my old ways, don't you cry for me,_   
_Thought I'd be a better man but I lied to me and to you_

James woke up confused, forgetting why he was asleep on the sofa. He shivered slightly, grabbing the blanket from behind him, pulling it around his shoulders. He realised Ben still wasn’t home. The apartment was cold and empty. 

He sighed out loud, rubbed sleep from his eyes. It was really late now. He checked his phone; no messages, no missed calls. Only a couple of Whatsapp messages from a couple of team mates he’d chased who’d confirmed they weren’t with Ben. James stroked his neck, it was tense. He wasn’t sure what to do. A feeling of abandonment crept into his mind.

He tried not to be the panicked, needy boyfriend, but this wasn’t like Ben. Or at least it hadn’t been for a few years. There’d been a year before where Ben had done this on multiple occasions, but back then they didn’t live together. He fidgeted, opened his phone, thought about calling Ben again but thought nine calls and voicemails were probably enough. He didn’t like how desperate he got where Ben was concerned. 

James was ready to give up waiting when he heard a car door slam outside. After a couple of minutes of listening to the other man painfully struggling to open their front door, he heard Ben fumbling his way through the hallway, into the living room.   
  
“Ben, where were you?”

Ben froze. He knew that being ‘quiet and stealthy’ when you’re drunk was a challenge, but he thought he’d been doing ok. He didn’t realise James would be sat in the dark waiting for him. He felt guilty as he wondered how long he’d been there. The room was cold. 

“Err, I took Hamza out for a couple of drinks,” he replied, squinting as James switched a lamp on.

“Ben, it’s 4am?”

“I guess we lost track of time, sorry,” Ben swayed on his feet, running a hand through his hair.

“Is your phone dead?”

“What?” he slurred the response.

“Your phone, did it run out of battery? Because otherwise you couldn’t have called or texted me? I just got home and you weren’t here, no message, nothing.” James stood up now, he could smell the alcohol on Ben’s breath before he got face to face with him. He reeked of sambuca and jaeger.

“Err...no. I just...Hamza’s had a really shitty month, he needed me. We turned our phones off.”

James was quiet for a moment. It was a shitty excuse. He was friends with Hamza too, wasn’t he? Anger at being abandoned, at his messages being ignored, at Ben’s drunken state, at waking up cold and uncomfortable and alone came out in a rare moment of rage for James.

“Ben, we’ve got training in five hours, what the fuck are you playing at?” James rarely raised his voice, definitely not to Ben, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, fuck, I just...I’ll be fine, bit of sleep, a strong coffee.”

“That’s it? No apology to me, no understanding that you can’t do this anymore. Ben, is this a warning sign, do I need to worry about you again? You promised me!”

“Fuck Madders, I’m drunk, I’m tired, can’t you save the nagging until tomorrow?!” Ben pushed past him, “I can’t deal with you now.”

James heard the bathroom door slam and sighed, tipping his head back. He couldn’t maintain anger for very low and it immediately turned into a mix of sadness and tiredness. He climbed into bed, and after a long time, Ben flopped in alongside him. Usually, Ben would press up against him but he felt the deliberate shifting of the defender’s body and when he finally opened his eyes he could see Ben’s back on the edge of the bed. 

***

James hadn’t slept much after that, he was embarrassed to say he’d got up early, sick of feeling on the brink of tears. He thought about waking Ben when it was time to leave for training, but he left the other man asleep. He couldn’t face an early morning argument. 

Knowing Ben would either be late to training, or not turning up at all, James found that he left the apartment in a foul mood. He’d blasted some music on the drive in to the training ground and had a large coffee. Being welcomed by his ever happy teammates helped and he almost forgot how angry he was. Before he knew it, they had him smiling again. Until the gaffer pulled him to one side anyway.

“Where’s Chilwell?” Brendan asked. How much he knew of their relationship was unclear but he wasn’t oblivious to them going everywhere together or their living arrangements.

“I don’t know,” James lied, avoiding his manager’s eyes.

Brendan informed him that Hamza had only just turned up, asking if he knew why that might be. James shrugged, not able to lie a second time. With Hamza relegated to doing laps of the pitch on his own, James put thoughts of Ben aside and went to collect his bib, ready for the mini games they played in groups of five. At least football felt normal. Felt good. 

When Ben did eventually appear, he was more than twenty minutes late and looked like hell. He made excuses for feeling unwell that James scowled through. His late entrance got him some laps too and when he had to stop midway through to be sick, the coaches were even less impressed. He was told to sit out the rest of the training and told, in front of the whole squad, that his place for the next game could be forgotten already.

Throwing a water bottle down angrily, Ben sulked, watching the mini games play out. His mood didn’t improve when he spotted that Ayoze Perez was in Madders’ group. He always thought Ayoze smiled more whenever Madders was around. He didn’t think he had any right to be jealous after how he’d acted last night, but his fists balled up anyway when Ayoze looked at Madders. Stupid smug Spaniard. 

When the two tangled in a tackle (if you could call it that, neither exactly tackled well), the blonde stuck out a foot that tripped Ayoze and sent him toppling down, pulling the number ten down with him. Ayoze landed on top of Madders. They stayed there a moment, Ayoze’s weight pressing down on him, hands tangled, pretending to wrestle. Ben’s fists tore holes in the pitch beneath him as he watched with a glare until Ayoze climbed off him. 

He stormed off and headed to the showers. Rodgers was already pissed at him and he felt like shit. He couldn’t watch James smiling and carrying on as normal. He wished the midfielder would come and yell at him, or send somebody like Jonny Evans over to give him shit. He deserved it.

*** 

  
It was early evening when James finally came home. He’d gone out after training, a makeshift version of coffee club, Andy King able to make it down to join them meant that it ran longer than normal. He hadn’t waited for Ben who was sulking in the gym and the defender hadn’t turned up to coffee club, but James thought that perhaps that was for the best. They’d not said a word to each other since last night and coffee club wasn’t a place for awkward silences and tension. 

Stepping into their apartment, he listened intently. The place was pitch black and silent; maybe Ben had gone back to bed to nurse his hangover. James removed his trainers, padding as quietly to the bedroom as he could. The curtains were drawn, but he could see a Ben-shaped mound on the bed, covers pulled up over his head. 

He thought Ben was asleep, and he was just about to leave the room again when he heard him. The voice was soft.

“James?”

A hand poked out and patted the empty side of the bed.

James hesitated for a second before he perched on the edge of the bed, letting his hand rest atop Ben’s. 

“I’m so sorry, Madders.”

Ben grabbed him, pulling him down on the bed so that he could bear hug him from behind.

“I’m sorry,” lips buried themselves in blonde hair.

“I heard you the first time...”

“You deserve to hear it again. I was a dick,” Ben stroked his hair.

“You were.”

“I didn’t send you into Ayo’s arms did I?”

“What?” James turned his head.

“He likes you Madders. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I was out for coffee with Kingy. I was mad, and you were a dick, but it’s you I love. Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he quipped back, “It’s why I stay up and wait for you to come home and why I let you off the hook so easily.”

Ben silently sighed. He didn’t know how paranoid he got when he was hungover. He squeezed his arms a little more tightly around Madders, enjoying the warmth of his body. He didn’t feel he had anything to stay that would help. 

“You promised me, Chilly,” James said it quietly, trying to mask the concern in his voice.

Ben was silent, giving James the time to speak again. He wasn’t done yet and the defender owed him this much. 

“When I came here, you promised me, never again. You said you were serious this time. Last night...last night felt like 2017 again. You not answering my calls or messages and that attitude.”

“I promise you don’t need to worry. One of us should have reigned it in, we didn’t,” Ben stroked Madders’ arm, “Brendan’s dropped us both for the weekend.”

“You deserve it...”

“I know. It just sucks, sometimes I wish I could be young and stupid without such big consequences.”

“You were already young and stupid...”

“Hey!”

James braced himself as Ben tickled and jabbed him in the side as a way of protest. The pair broke into giggles and James rolled over to face him. 

He looked serious again now. Vulnerable. Sometimes Ben forgot he could be like this when he was so confident most of the time. 

“Please don’t make me feel like that again, Ben. I forgive you so quickly, I...you’re my weakness.”

Ben kissed his forehead, stroked his cheek and reassured him the best way he knew, with his lips and his touches. He had never been great with words where Madders was concerned. He cared too much to risk saying the wrong thing.


	9. Blinding Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 9 - Blinding Lights. There’s a lot of fluff, almost an equal amount of smut and a brief appearance from Kasper Schmeichel. Set after the 2-0 win over Arsenal earlier this season (November 2019), Madders scored in that game/got MoTM and there’s some dreaming after the game. This is romantic/protective Ben.

“There he is, the star of the show!” Kasper squashed Madders against his big frame, rubbing his hair and grinning.

Ben had walked out of the tunnel with Kasper and now watched on with a contented smile, tucking his hands into his coat pockets to stay warm. He felt warmer seeing just how much the rest of the club loved Madders. Not that it surprised him, everywhere Madders went, he charmed people. Ben knew that better than most.

“You were incredible tonight, Madders,” Kasper elbowed him in the ribs playfully.

“Thanks, Cap,” Madders beamed, the yellow Man of the Match award poking out from his coat pocket. 

“This is just the start. I hope Chilly has told you what the Champions League nights feel like. You’re in for a treat. It’s the dream and everything else you can’t even imagine!”

Kasper patted him on the back and moved to give Ben a softer hug, leaning close to speak to him.

“I’ve swung you an hour, and don't mess up the pitch,” he whispered to the defender, “Just avoid the cameras if you do what I know you’re going to do.”

Ben winked, “You know me, Schmeichs. I’m a good boy.”

“Sure,” Kasper made his way back to the tunnel, ready to meet his family and go home.

Ben approached Madders, snaking his arms inside of the blonde’s big coat to pull him forward into an embrace. “Hi.”

“Hey you,” James had the biggest grin as he rubbed Chilly’s nose with his own wet, cold one, “How amazing was tonight?!”

“ _You_ were amazing.”

“Everybody was, you were, the whole team. I live for nights like this, I feel...incredible!” the midfielder stroked his chin, shook his head and grinned again, looking up at Ben.

Ben gulped as the lights reflected in Madders’ eyes. They sparkled like blue gemstones, full of life and excitement. Madders was still wet from the rain that drowned them during the game, a raindrop dripping off his dishevelled hair. His skin was flushed and Ben’s breath caught in his throat. 

“God, you look incredible...”

He planted a quick kiss on James’ lips. If you watched the CCTV footage back, you’d have to slow it down a lot to see the kiss. It made James blush that he’d still risk it. 

_You don't even have to do too much_

_You can turn me on with just a touch, baby_

“Will you do something for me?” Ben asked, stroking Madders cheek. 

“Ben, I think we both know we’re past the point of you needing to ask that.”

“Come with me, just for a minute,” he held out a hand and felt cold fingers grip back.

Ben led James to the centre of the pitch and stood behind him, arms wrapped tightly around him, his attempt to keep the blonde warm. The rain had virtually subsided now, but their breath still misted out, visible against the darkening sky and the flood lights that illuminated the pitch.

It felt different to be out on the pitch like this. The lush grass beneath their feet, the empty thirty-thousand blue and white seats that stared back at them. The stadium lights twinkled down at them and Madders replayed the best bits of the night, putting him back in dreamland again. He let himself lean back into Ben’s arms, sighing happily.

“Kasper’s right. Nights like tonight are great but you are going to be blown away by Champions League nights here. Wednesday nights under the lights...fans going nuts, going up against the best in the world. It’s...well it’s almost better than sex with you.”

James laughed, but he knew Ben was being serious. He leaned his head back, feeling lips kiss the top of his head through his hair.

“I want that so, so much,” he clasped Ben’s hands, “It’s everything I want. It actually makes me nervous.”

“Shhh,” he used one of the hands atop his to shush the blonde, “Madness. You know it too, you know you’re destined for the top.”

“I dreamt of this for so many years. And now we’re on the verge of something great.”

James looked up at Ben, twisting his neck. Involuntarily, he shivered back against the brunette. He’d been doing media since the game finished, his shorts and training top still wet and offering little protection.

“Cmon,” Ben presented his back, offering the blonde a piggyback.

Jogging, hands supporting high under James’ thighs, Ben carried him off the pitch, placing him down in the corridor where the tunnel ended. He pinned Madders against the wall, a large photo of the team celebrating behind them as they kissed. Ben knew there were cameras here, but it didn’t matter. Kasper had bought him some time where nobody would care enough to look at any of the CCTV footage. 

James was still shivering, teeth trying not to chatter. He hadn’t even had the chance to shower yet, dry off and warm up. Ben lifted James up off the floor again and the blonde eagerly wrapped his legs around the defender’s waist to help support himself.

"We'll get you warmed up…" 

Carrying Madders like this wasn't Ben's best idea. He couldn't see that far ahead and he definitely couldn't see his feet. His view was mainly of a wet and cold James, lips pale and begging to be kissed back to their usual shade of pink. 

It took longer, and meant crashing into many things and walls, before Ben got them both safely to the recovery pool. He probably could have got there faster if he hadn’t kept pausing to kiss James, but he couldn’t help himself.

Shivering from the neck down, James was fumbling with the zip on his coat. Ben stepped in to assist. While the pool filled itself, he carefully stripped the blonde. He paused frequently to massage the midfielder's lips with his own again, fingers pushing wet hair from the blonde's face tenderly.

Ben caught him by surprise when he swept him off his feet and up into his arms. He carried the blonde into the pool firefighter style, putting him down gently. Immediately he backed James up against the side of the pool though, hands finding creamy thighs under the water and caressing them.

Madders purred at the contact. He allowed himself to be lifted up once again, wrapping his thighs around Ben's waist to sit on him, the water making it a weightless sensation. The combination of the defender's warmth and the steaming water was already helping.

"Is this better?" Ben asked, hands at the base of Madders' back, circling the flesh there.

"Mmm."

“But it could be even better?”

James nodded. 

The steam around them meant more of Madders hair fell out of place and onto his face. Ben brushed it away, his lips making contact with the blonde's forehead. He placed light, tender kisses around his face, deliberately bypassing his lips. Instead he moved onto the midfielder's neck first, then shoulders and then the top of the chest that wasn't submerged in the water.

Madders rolled his head, visibly showing his appreciation. Dipping his head again, his lips found Ben's. They'd kissed at the stadium before, many times actually, but it was usually more charged than this or quick and sneaky. All boundless energy from a win or a rush to wind each other nuts before going home and fucking. If they made it home and didn’t just pull over in the car that was. This...this was slow, romantic. Like time was something that no longer impacted them. 

Making out with Ben like this reminded Madders of how perfectly their lips fitted together. The slow swapping of whose lips were on top. Tongues lazily meeting, caressing, heads turning slightly, tilting at all the right moments. Ben did this thing with his tongue where it flicked up and over Madders' teeth and it got him every time. He groaned, forgetting how cold he'd been just moments ago. 

Having climbed in entirely naked, both of them were now hard, their cocks pushing against one another in this position. Ben moved his hips, forcing more contact and they both grunted into the kissing. It wasn’t quite so slow anymore, 

“Tell me what the man of the match wants,” Ben said, glancing at the yellow award that he’d placed on the edge of the pool. Pride of place, he’d told Madders, making the blonde laugh.

James let a groan come laugh escape his mouth, head tilting. He put a hand on Ben’s jawline, tracing it in admiration.

“You should definitely make me come,” he nodded, thinking about what else he wanted, “I’m not sure we’ve had sex in a pool before...”

“Mmmm, I like where this is going,” Ben responded, the last word disappearing into James’ mouth. 

Ben backed up slowly, finding the seat on the edge of the pool, something for them to brace themselves on. He lifted James onto his lap again, hands firmly on his arse.

James wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck, lifting himself up slightly. The brunette helped ready him, one finger first, gently massaging him, before a second and third fully opened him up. They didn’t break their kiss the whole time, Ben eager to ensure he was ok. He helped guide James down onto his cock, slowly and carefully, Ben asking him if he was ok several times.

Ben’s hand worked James’ cock, helping to forget any temporary discomfort. James rested there a moment, Ben’s length inside him, his own cock in the brunette’s skilled hands. The water made everything feel different, but he liked the warmth on his skin as he pushed his hips forward and back.

Deliberately going slowly, Madders watched Ben intently. The way he took a breath every time James got down to the hilt. The way his eyes fluttered as he closed them, but it was even better when he opened them again and looked directly at James. 

Leaning his head back in pleasure, Ben had to rest one hand on the edge of the pool to keep them in place. He kept the other one working on Madders’ cock, though the blonde’s movement left him bucking into Ben’s hand. He didn’t last long like that, shuddering and losing his balance.

Ben let him ride it out for a moment, dragging his lips into a rough kiss. Sliding his hands underneath James, he lifted the blonde up and off his lip, pushing him up against the side of the pool. The defender wasn’t patient as he thrust into Madders, watching his cock disappear inside the blonde. 

Groaning loudly, his own cock still twitching, James arched his back. Ben’s cock hit his prostate with every stroke now and he almost lost his balance, still coming down from his own climax. Ben left a hand on the blonde’s hip, using it to slam into the midfielder. His other hand crept up James’ chest to his throat. He tipped the blonde’s head back, a frantic kiss before he pressed his mouth to the pale shoulder beneath him.

He bit down as he came inside Madders, knowing he’d leave a mark that he’d be able to trace in the morning. He panted against the blonde’s back, moaning as he felt Madders roll his hips, the sensation too much for him to keep his footing. They both floated in the water for a moment, looking at each other and grinning. 

The brunette climbed out first, presenting a hand to help James out. He was holding a towel and wrapped Madders in it. He pulled the blonde closer with the end of the towel, to eskimo kiss him. Their eyes met again and James smiled.

Ben was mildly concerned when Madders began shivering again. His skin was still prickling from the heat of the pool combined with their antics, so it definitely wasn’t that. 

“I’m ok, it just takes me a while to warm up sometimes,” James tried to reassure him.

“Mmm,” he wasn’t convinced and a hand on Madders’ forehead told him the blonde was burning up, “We should get you home.”

Dressed and now wearing Ben’s hoodie (he'd insisted), Madders had been instructed to wait inside reception, the defender jogging out to retrieve his Range Rover. They hardly ever travelled in separately anymore but Ben had already told him that he would drive them home. He reversed Madders’ grey car up to the doors, cranking up the heat so that James spent as little time in the cold outside again as possible. 

_I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights_

_No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch_

_I said, ooh, I'm drowning in the night_

_Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust_

James took one last look at the stadium. He loved how it looked at night, all lights and blue. He reached over the console of his car (he only felt a comfortable passenger when it was Ben driving) seeking the brunette's hand. It was warm and it squeezed his own back before Ben lifted them to his mouth and kissed. 

"You're still cold, I'm worried you're coming down with something."

"I'll be ok."

James let his eyes close, pulling his feet up onto the chair and curling up to face the driver, smiling. 

"Chilly, when we get home, will you make me a hot chocolate?"

Ben chuckled, "Sure Madders."

"And let me cuddle you in bed?"

"Whatever you want."

"We could put a film on…"

Ben chuckled, "You're going to pick La La Land again aren't you?" 

"You said whatever I want!" He titled his head up to look at Ben, aware his eyes were wide and glassy, tiredness creeping in.

"I know, I know," Ben leaned over, planted a kiss on that blonde hair, "I warn you though, I might get distracted again and start feeling you up." 

James said nothing but his lips curled into a wider smile and he stroked Ben's hand in response.


	10. In Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 10 - In your eyes. This is a little sad but mostly pure, unapologetic fluff with some smut. Set in 2018 around the pair’s birthdays. Madders isn’t coping so well with everything that has happened (tough time for Leicester fans generally after the helicopter tragedy, plus other things, and without going into it in too much detail, I wanted to try and honour it here) but is trying to put on a brave face. Ben takes care of him.

James had been putting on a brave face. Hell, they all had. October had ended with the tragic loss of the club’s owner. A month ending on such a tragedy couldn't do anything but spill into and take over November too. He hadn’t known him in the same way as some of the players, but he still felt the loss heavily. Saw what it meant to everybody. 

He hadn't wanted to really celebrate his own birthday but his family and Ben still made a fuss, so he had to let them. Even if his heart wasn't in it. The thing about having a reputation for being the smiling, happy kind of guy is that the second you aren't like that, everybody notices. If that wasn't bad enough for James, his form on the pitch was up and down too in the last couple of games.

Football had been the distraction at first, the break from feeling upset, helpless and worried for his team-mates, for his friends. But then after the first couple of games when they’d be determined to win for The Boss, it had gotten harder again. November, all rain and sadness, had given way to a mild but dull December. A drab draw, followed by two straight losses had put everybody in a bit of a bad mood as Christmas approached.

Ben’s birthday fell just before Christmas, December 21st. He’d always joked that he never got presents, because of the close proximity. That people tended to do a joint present. He also pretended not to care about his birthday, which was all lies as far as James was concerned. He'd seen Ben cry for the first time back in October, an image that hadn't left him since. He made it his job after that to ensure that he kept the dark-haired boy smiling as much as possible.

With his birthday falling on a Friday, Leicester playing away at Chelsea on the Saturday, they’d spent it in a London hotel.

He’d tried to make it special for Ben still, shrugging off the defender’s concern for him. He’d withheld presents, it still wasn’t Ben’s actual birthday yet, but he did provide birthday sex. Everybody knows that birthday sex is whatever the birthday boy or girl wants. In Ben’s case, with time against them and teammates in rooms on either side, the defender kept it simple. 

He asked for James to dominate him for a change and asked that he be gagged and restrained. The blonde enjoyed his once in a blue moon chance to be in control. Mostly he loved how beautiful Ben looked while he could use only his eyes, and muted moans, to beg for more from James. It was an hour that James easily escaped his own head.

Keeping a smile on his face wasn’t difficult where Ben was concerned. He made James ridiculously happy at all times anyway, so it didn’t feel like a challenge to remain smiling near him. One little touch on the small of his back, a stolen kiss or lips that barely brushed his neck. Even just seeing Ben smile, or laugh, made him reciprocate. 

James had managed to communicate with Ben’s family, convincing them to delay their own celebrations until Sunday. This allowed him to plan a secret celebration for just the two of them, one he could surprise Ben with after the game. He’d booked a table at the Shangri-La in the Shard, cocktails afterwards and then he had a suite in a very posh hotel that boasted a round bed that could rotate. Something he thought Ben would appreciate. 

Back in the hotel room, despite having declared himself ‘too full to move’ on the tube journey back, Ben immediately pounced on James, pushing him to the bed. 

“You are too much, James Maddison,” he kissed the blonde before surveying the room again.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“Mmm, I don’t deserve this,” Ben stretched out, alongside James, “We didn’t even really celebrate yours and you do all of this for me.”

“I like making you happy.”

“I know...” Ben chewed his lip as he looked at James, “But it’s not your job. It should be a mutual thing.”

James smiled at this, “You have no worries there, you always make me happy.”

Ben considered this for a minute before he cupped James by the chin and lifted his head into a kiss. 

“Madders, your eyes betray you. You don’t need to hold everything in all of the time. You can be sad too, you know.”

“I’m fine,” the words came out choked. The way they always do when people are trying to hold it together. He blinked, looked away.

It was Ben who moved and pulled him into a hug. It opened the floodgates and James couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He’d been bottling everything up for too long, and the alcohol and the setting...he just couldn’t do it anymore. Ben squeezed him tightly, a hand on the back of his head and one at the small of his back, moving in soothing circles. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” 

“It's your birthday and I'm ruining it. I should be stronger," James buried his face more even though he knew Ben could feel the wetness increasing.

Ben chuckled, "You are strong. Crying doesn't make you weak, it just makes you honest. You've needed this for weeks, I've seen it in your face. How much you've worried about me, about Kasper, about Top, about the staff...everybody. Except yourself!"

"You guys knew him longer, I have no right."

"He's family to us all, time is irrelevant. You have just as much right to feel confused, sad as any of us. Now, tell me what you need."

"I always tell you what I need."

Ben kissed the top of his head, his hair always smelled so good.

"You tell me what you need sexually. And while usually I'd encourage that, I meant emotionally. You haven't told me that for a while..."

James' arms were wrapped around Ben. He pushed one under the brunette's shirt, appreciating the warm, smooth skin under his fingertips.

"Just you."

"I've always been here."

"Then I'll be ok. I need time, I guess. But I feel better like this, with you," James replied, pulling back from their hug.

Ben wiped away the last tear that was stuck on his cheek. The brunette smiled at him and kissed the spot under James' eye that he'd just wiped the teardrop from. 

He was nearly knocked off the bed when James surged for his lips. 

"It's ok, we don't have to," Ben stroked his face.

"Chilly, I want this," he whispered, placing Ben's hand on his tenting trousers as proof, "We're in a hotel room where nobody can hear us and on a round bed. A bed that rotates in case you forgot. Fuck me already."

Ben pinned him down, kissing at his neck, tracing a line down his chest to the bulge in his pants.

"Not so fast, Madders. It's my birthday and I am in the mood to tease.."


	11. Save your tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 11 - Save your tears. Going back a little bit again. This is set in late 2017 with the England Under-21s for Madders first call up, so there are mentions of the rest of the squad. The boys slept together a year ago but aren't sure what that means. There's some fluff, some angst, implications and mentions of smut.

Team bonding was an essential part of any football team’s practices. The England Under-21s did it frequently, partly because the squad changed frequently and partly to introduce the new players. James was never nervous about getting his first call-up, the next step, he was just excited. He knew a number of the squad called up, including Norwich team-mate, Angus Gunn. One name on the announced list stood out though; Ben Chilwell. That name made him nervous.

His heart raced when he turned up at the airport and Ben was there, giving him a smile and a hug. They’d only seen each other a couple of times since the previous summer, with the England Under-20s. God, that had been some summer. James would be lying if he said he’d not thought about the defender a lot since then. It hadn’t been mutual though, he’d waited for Ben to call, to text. Waiting for something that never came. 

He thought back to their (not-so) secret glances at one another on the training pitch and in the shower a year back. The way they’d been apprehensive to room together at first, but the way he’d worn down Ben’s defences. Their first kiss, brief and unexpected but it had set off a burning desire. 

Their second kiss; long, messy, hands that had no idea what they were doing but eager to learn and to feel their way through it. Fragments of nights that wouldn’t leave his memory. Ben rolling him over onto his back, his lips around the brunette’s cock, the way it felt when Ben first fucked him, his cock stretching him. Moaning into a pillow so their team-mates didn’t hear. Repeating it night after night.

And then the England camp ended. Summer ended. Ben and James’ nights of sharing a bed and each other’s bodies ended. James had resigned himself to having enjoyed the best summer fling of his life. 

Ben finished their airport reunion by slapping him on the back and saying, ‘Great to see you, mate’. James had nodded and watched him walk off, then do the exact same thing to the next three players that arrived. He realised he wasn’t special. That they hadn’t been anything special. He nodded to himself. He guessed he’d already resigned himself to rejection when Ben hadn’t called, but the pretence of him being just another teammate...that hurt. 

He didn’t have too much time to dwell on his feelings as Demarai Gray, Ben’s teammate appeared and seemed genuinely pleased to have him there. James soon found himself distracted by Demarai and Dominic Solanke’s antics. Laughing felt good.

When the England travel coordinator proudly handed him his boarding pass, she told him that she knew this was his first trip with the under-21s so she’d made sure he’d be sat next to somebody he knew. James hoped that meant Demarai, Angus Gunn, or even Jonjoe Kenny (who’d also been with him at the Under-20s camp last year), but then he boarded the plane and found his seat was the window seat; next to Ben.

The brunette looked awkward as he moved into the aisle to let James in. He said nothing and looked towards the door. Looking for a way out, James thought. He sighed and immediately put in his headphones, facing the window and pretending to sleep. If Ben cared, he certainly didn’t show it, happy to chat to Demarai and Dominic the whole flight without even a glance James’ way. When they landed in Kiev, James was in no rush to get off and again, Ben didn’t seem to notice. 

His luck when they reached the hotel in Kiev didn’t improve. He was told that as they’d roomed together for the Under-20s, they thought it made sense for him and Ben to room together again. They got given the usual ‘behave yourselves, tonight is all about team bonding before the real work tomorrow’ speech and were sent to their rooms to change before dinner and the team bonding activities.

James was the first in the room, sitting nervously on one of the two twin beds. He was wondering why they were so close together when Ben came in. The defender’s smile changed to a more neutral face as he dumped his bag on the other bed. The room was small but Ben kept maximum distance between the two of them, frowning at the two beds.

“You’re ok if I shower first?” Ben asked, avoiding direct eye contact again.

Before James could answer, Ben had stripped down to just his boxers. He stood there, hands on his hips, not hiding any of his body as he fiddled with his suitcase. James gulped and found something to look at his phone so he wasn’t just staring, worried he might start drooling. He just nodded and mumbled a “Sure”.

He tried desperately not to think about how steamy the shower was, how the warm water would be running over Ben’s toned muscles. How his cheeks would be flushed from the heat, and how good he’d smell. 

He closed his eyes, trying to banish the thoughts, but all that did was help him mentally picture Ben soaping himself up, hands running shampoo through his hair. James sighed, playing a pointless game on his phone. Praying his erection went down before Ben finished.

When Ben came out, he had a towel draped over his hips that sat almost too low and James found it impossible not to stare at his stomach, the two lines of his hips that invited his eyesight back to his groin. A body he knew off by heart. Not helpful when you’re trying not to mentally remove the small towel.

“Should I wait for you or-” he asked, but he sounded like he was hoping James would say no.

“I’ll just see you downstairs,” James virtually pushed him out of the way to get into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He heard Ben shuffling around the room. He put his head back against the door, hands on his face, mouth open but not letting the frustration vocalise. His erection throbbed in his shorts. How was he going to get through the next few days?! Him turned on by Ben’s every move and Ben seemingly wanting to be near him as little as possible.

***

James had managed to be late enough down to dinner that he had to sit near the end of a table, two tables away from Ben. He deliberately avoided making eye contact. He thought he'd caught Ben watching him, but he presumed he was mistaken. The defender seemed to want nothing to do with him. More fool him for thinking they'd be able to pick up where they left off.

Team bonding turned out to mean they had exclusive use of the gym and club areas of the hotel. Something about Kiev not being safe enough for them to actually go out. They did have a swimming pool, a bar, a pool table, a dart board and a lot of sofas to hang out on though. They'd done a tournament at first, both pool and darts. Now it was just small groups of players sitting around chatting.

James had been thankful that before Demarai had been able to drag him to the small group piled on the sofas, that naturally included Ben and the only spare seat was the one next to him, Dean Henderson and some of the other newer squad members wanted to do duos of pool. Dean needed a partner and James was happy to avoid Ben for longer.

It became quite a raucous contest, lots of laughing and whooping. Some of the others stood around watching. Demarai, the two Dominics, Ben, Trent and Angus only glanced over, caught up in conversation and listening to music. It was one particular celebration from James that caught the attention of the group.

“So, Madders is single at the minute, then?” Dominic Calvert-Lewin asked. 

He'd been watching the blonde as he bent over the table to take his next shot.

Ben tensed up at the mention, he hoped his cheeks weren’t turning red and he tried not to look awkwardly at the floor. He didn’t miss the glance Demarai Gray shot him though. He wanted to kick his Leicester team-mate, but he remained perfectly still, sipped his drink and let somebody else answer.

“What do you care?” Solanke shot back, making the others laugh, “You going to take him out for a nice meal are you?”

“He seems fun, he’s cute, why not? Well...is he single?”

“Err, yeah I guess,” Angus answered, it made sense that he’d know given they shared a dressing room.

“He’s not mentioned anybody recently then?” Demarai piped up.

Ben’s eyes shot up, giving him a look that he hoped would seem neutral to the others, but that said ‘shut the fuck up’ to Demarai. He regretted telling the striker about last summer.

“Hmm, he did seem hung up on somebody actually, but he never said who. I saw him turn down more than a few girls though so whoever it was, he must have been pretty keen. Look, I’m not that close to him, go ask him yourself!” Angus shrugged, walking off.

"Mmm, I imagine he'd be easy to wrap around your finger."

"Probably the one time you'd wipe that cocky smile off is if you had your-" Solanke started.

"He's not like that," Ben snapped, feeling all four pairs of eyes looking at him, a mix of confusion and accusation, "I bet. I mean I don't know, Grealish said something."

Demarai was smirking. The two Dominics didn't seem convinced and it was only Trent who seemed to accept that answer and move on.

"I'm going for a swim," Ben made his excuse and left the group.

He let his hips sway as he walked, deliberately ensuring he passed the pool table. Close enough to brush past James. The blonde pretended not to notice him, but he was sure he had his attention. Half of the pool was visible through the double doors in front of the pool table. As Ben shimmied to just his boxers, he made sure it was at the end where he could be watched. 

Ben pushed himself for a few lengths, swimming hard enough that he had to focus on breathing. He forgot his moment of stupidity, last summer and then how weird he'd acted earlier on. Finding the edge of the pool to take a breather, he became aware of somebody at the opposite end. He glanced over to the double doors, they were closed now. Past them he could see the squad still in similar groups, busy.

James had his feet dangling in the pool, hands behind him either side. He was topless. Ben noticed most of his left arm was tattooed. That was new.

"Hey!" Ben swam down to join him, lifting himself out of the pool and setting himself down. He didn't leave a big gap between them.

"We're talking now?" James asked. He was fighting the urge to look at the defender's wet, glistening body.

"I wasn't aware we hadn't been…"

"So nothing for months and then just the bro stuff earlier on?" 

Ben shrugged, "Yeah, I thought that was normal? Friends do that."

"Right."

Do friends also have sex for a whole summer and then pretend it didn't happen? James played with his hands now, wishing he was brave enough to say that out loud. There was silence between them before Ben broke it. 

"You're tattooed now! It looks good on you," Ben leaned over to look more closely at the black and white artwork.

James held his breath as Ben's face drew closer to his torso before an arm pulled his arm out to better examine the tattoo. Ben smelled like the hair gel he used and chlorine. Why that made James' heart skip a beat was ridiculous. 

"Yeah, I’m getting it finished soon."

"Any more hidden ones?" Ben asked, mouth not quite curved into a smirk, eyes boring a hole into James’ chest and arms.

James didn’t respond, he chewed his lip. He was aware that Ben’s arm was pressed up against his, their legs brushing too. The defender was swinging his slightly, making ripples in the pool. The sensation covered James' skin in tiny goose pimples.

“Chilly, what are you doing?”

“I thought...” Ben nodded his head, letting the words trail, hoping James would know, “I figured we’d maybe have sex, again. Like last summer.”

“So when we’re alone, you’ll admit that last summer happened? I thought we were friends.”

“We are...”

“Chilly, I’m not sure friends sleep together every day for a couple of months and then don’t talk for almost a year.”

“You said ‘see you around’ and left. I thought that meant it was done. I text you and your answers were so short,” Ben shrugged, confused.

“You text me pointless things that required a yes or no answer. I thought you were done, you never said anything about what we did. I thought you were disgusted by it, by me. I thought that's why you didn’t ask to see me again.”

The two men descended into silence. James was red in the face, embarrassed. The fact that Ben said nothing clearly meant he had wanted to hide it from everybody else.

Ben’s arm snaked behind James’ back, wrapping around his waist and closing any remaining space between them. 

“I don’t think we understood each other, Madders.”

“So what was last summer to you?”

Ben turned to face him. If he leaned just an inch forward, he’d be close enough to kiss James. Their eyes darted around one another’s faces, nervously. 

“It was fun. Unexpected, but fun. Madders, I don’t know what the protocol is here. I’ve not made a habit of sleeping with my teammates. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do. I do know you look good though.”

His eyes sought approval as he moved in and found James’ lips, his kiss featherlight. Lips that needed no introduction. They’d memorised every inch of one another a year ago and this felt like they’d never been apart. But it was brief, Ben cutting it short.

Ben jumped back into the pool, turning to face James, paddling gently to keep his head above the water. The water was warm. He hoped his face showed the clear invitation for the blonde to join him. James lowered himself in, allowed Ben the chance to admire his biceps and the way his tattoos sat and moved on the muscles. 

They floated near each other before James made the first move. He moved himself up against Ben, brushing his arm beneath the water. The defender kissed him softly at first, gradually intensifying the kiss until James had to wrap his legs around Ben’s hips to steady himself. His head was spinning and he felt helpless to do anything but mimic the movement of Ben’s lips.

When Ben paused, he opened his eyes slowly, looking for something on James’ face that said it was ok to continue. To go further. Kissing like this never ended with just a kiss and he needed to know that it was what James wanted. No more miscommunication.

“I think we have to stop kissing,” James panted, “I can’t control myself when I’m with you and our whole squad are less than twenty feet away.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Ben replied, searching his eyes again. “And I don’t care if they know, or they see Madders. I don’t.”

James melted into Ben’s touch, the defender’s hands cupping his face. The sensation of Ben kissing him felt like he was drowning but unable to put up any kind of resistance. It felt good to let everything else fade away. He leaned further into Ben’s arms, the movement nearly pushing them both underwater.

“I think we should go up to our room,” Ben whispered, seeing the prickles on James’ neck as he spoke.

“We’re supposed to be bonding as a team...”

“We will be, we’re just going to do a one on one session.”

Ben let his hips sway as he climbed out of the pool. He could feel James’ eyes on his behind, on his toned back. He squeezed some water from his hair and grabbed a towel, throwing it over his shoulder. As James followed and they re-entered the main room, a few eyes looked up.

It surprised James when Ben took his hand, leading him towards the exit. A few eyebrows were raised and Demarai smiled, knowingly. It was hard not to blush as they’d attracted the attention of most of the team now. Ben didn’t seem to care. They kept it demure in the lift, both just grinning at each other, eyes flitting down to wet shorts.

The second the hotel door closed, it was hands everywhere, lips roaming, body parts coming together like pieces of a jigsaw. They somewhat crashed onto the twin beds, James almost falling into the gap, Ben’s hand underneath him as a support.

Ben straddled James, they were making out slower now. It could have been hours that had passed as far as James was concerned. Ben’s lips kept on finding him, slow and soft, hands caressing and teasing at his flesh. Making up for lost time but trying not to rush it. James was arching his back at every touch, leaning further up and into their kissing, their tongues dancing. 

As Ben put a hand between them, stroking at James’ shorts, the blonde groaned low in his throat, soft noises that were buried between their lips. The defender refocused his mouth on James’ neck, chest, before he pulled back up. Both men were panting, James’ accompanying it with the cutest whining noises as Ben continued stroking his erection through his shorts. 

Ben wanted to look James dead in the eye as he reached inside the shorts and grasped his cock, tracing the vein all the way to the top before curling his hand into a fist around it. James bucked forward, bringing their lips together again, muffling his cry of pleasure. The defender held him there, pushing his own hips forward, letting James know he was just as hard. 

He nipped at James’ jawline, the blonde moaning more loudly, his legs struggling to stay still. Ben’s hand ghosted over the midfielder’s cock. James begged him silently, eyes flitting up and then down. Ben shushed him with a rough kiss, resuming a tighter hold in James’ shorts. The midfielder whispered his name, breathless and sexily, repeatedly, a hand on Ben’s back. He shuddered as he came, making a mess of his shorts and Ben’s hand. The defender waited as James composed himself, all flushed cheeks and out of place hair. Ben was kissing his cheek, his neck as he removed his own shorts and crawled 

“What does this mean now?” James hesitated, a hand on Ben’s hip.

Ben looked at him. James looked so young and innocent sometimes, so naive. The defender smiled, stroked his cheek, got him to smile again. That beautiful, charming smile he had. 

“Means we have all night, right? And that I’m definitely going to call you when we’re back in England. We’re on the same page this time, right?”

James nodded, grinning. Leaning forward, it was his turn to pin Ben down now. He knew that their absence for the rest of the evening wouldn’t go unnoticed with the squad. Their exit, the look on Demarai’s face. Looking down at Ben, he felt confident that the defender wouldn’t care, and would defuse it pretty quickly. Why they’d spent a year not doing this was baffling to him.


	12. Repeat after me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 12 - Repeat after me (interlude). I think I wrote this one before almost all of the others. The idea came to me when listening to the song pretty quickly. This one is not strictly just Ben/James, there’s also Ben Chilwell/Harry Winks. It's set 3-4 years ago, pre-Leicester. James wanted something serious and Ben ran.
> 
> Can be read as a future follow on from Save your tears in terms of timeline if you’d like. (I’ve never written Harry before so I hope it’s not too bad!)

Ben silently sighed, turning his head to observe the boy sleeping peacefully next to him. Harry slept like a baby, always content looking, motionless. The freckles that were still visible in the moonlight made him look even younger than he was. So innocent. Ben felt like a bastard.

Ben envied him; sleep had not been forthcoming for him for a few nights now. Tonight was particularly tough. Sitting up, sick of just laying there quietly, his eyes landed on his phone. It was face down on the bedside table. He’d been resisting the urge to pick it up for hours now. But it was like a burning beacon, silently crying out to him for attention.

When he’d cast it aside after they got back from dinner, Harry had commented on it. He knew that Ben liked to scroll through social media, message friends while he got to pick whatever show it was to watch on tv that he liked but that Ben wasn’t really interested in. Tonight, Ben left his phone in the kitchen. He’d made a bullshit excuse and Harry seemed to accept it. Ben knew he looked disinterested as they’d watched whatever trashy reality show, he was lost in his own thoughts. Luckily, Harry had been content to just lean on him and then sleep. 

Now wide awake, guilt and regret dominating his thoughts, Ben couldn’t face the voicemail that he knew was waiting on the phone. The missed call followed by a text had been bad enough, lighting up his phone as they ate, catching Harry’s attention, hard to brush off why Ben had ignored it as he'd put his phone back in his pocket. He’d later read the text, but chosen to leave it, like the call,l unanswered.

Snatching the phone from the bedside table, he daren’t leave it in the room with Harry; not even an asleep Harry, Ben got out of bed. He crept out of the room, thankful for the plush carpets that gave him a quiet exit. Moving into the open plan living-come-kitchen area, he put the phone face down on the marble counter and paced the kitchen. The floor in here was ice cold on his feet, but he felt like he deserved this level of discomfort. 

This was Harry’s place, it had been his suggestion that they stay here. Ben hadn’t moved in much of his stuff outside of clothes, he acted like more of a guest. Though he felt like a con man and a thief; a liar at best. He needed something to do with his hands that wasn’t picking up his phone to re-read the same text message (as if his brain hadn’t already memorised the nine words and played them over and over to him in  _ his  _ voice).

> _ You don’t love him if you’re thinking of me… _

The coffee he made warmed him. He thought it would help stave off the exhaustion a little. But it had unwanted side effects too. Ben’s mind had been fighting a losing battle that the bitter, caramel aroma of his coffee dealt a winning blow to. Images of  _ him _ flooded his mind, smiling and leaning over the counter as he handed Ben a coffee in the morning, hair dishevelled, sexily letting a tiny towel hang off his hips. 

More images surged forward. Their morning kisses that were laced with a nutty espresso flavour. Limbs tangled and grinding on the kitchen floor, the kitchen counter digging into his back when the coffee got abandoned for morning sex. Mornings that always started with innocent intentions and ended in debauchery and almost being late to training.

It was pretty much every surface of Ben's flat that they'd had sex on or against. Ben's eyes glanced over the marble here, thinking how good  _ he'd _ look splayed over it, moaning. He moved away from the kitchen, feeling even more guilty. Harry and he had only ever slept in Harry’s bed. Some heavy petting on the sofa, but it never went further.

Harry was one of the nicest guys. He was always warm, polite, honest and determined. He was...safe. For Ben anyway. As Ben tried everything to expel the images and thoughts of  _ him,  _ he couldn’t help but compare. Harry would blush at the kinkier, dirtier things Ben said, whereas  _ he  _ would have melted at them, let Ben push him down onto whatever surface was nearer. Harry was good-looking, had a boyish charm. Ben was attracted to him of course, but not in the same animal magnetism way that he felt about  _ him _ . Ben used to get hard on a first glance when maybe they’d only been apart an hour. It had been stupid really. With Harry, it was more controlled.

London’s twenty-four hour lights twinkled below the flat. He thought staying here, not in Leicester would help him not to think about  _ him.  _ He’d never let Harry sleep in his bed in Leicester, that definitely invoked too many memories.  _ He’d  _ claimed more than just Ben’s heart in that bed. 

Ben wanted to be able to tell Harry that whenever they fucked, he only thought of him. But that would make him even more of a liar. He was glad that it wasn’t a question Harry ever asked him, he wasn’t sure how good he was at lying directly to the freckled man anymore. If he didn’t believe anything coming out of his own mouth, why should anybody else?

He didn’t want to hurt Harry, that had never been his intention. It still wasn’t. But fuck, how could he not hurt him now? If Ben had been honest, he’d been feeling hurt for months. A pain he’d inflicted on himself and  _ him,  _ and now here was about to hurt a third person. Looking back, he couldn’t figure out why he’d ended it. Had he really been so blind as to not see the constant that  _ he  _ had become. And then Harry appeared, healing words and soft kisses and Ben had allowed himself to pretend that this was ok. Fuck.

Coffee drained, his hands had no further distraction. No excuse to keep delaying the inevitable. He paced again for a while before snatching the phone from the counter. There was a second text, a new one sent within the last hour. Clearly he wasn’t the only one suffering from insomnia.

> _ Ben, listen to the voicemail. Please...you owe Harry that if not me. _

He spun the phone around in his hand a few times before he held it steady and dialled voicemail. Clutching the phone to his ear, he moved as far into the room as possible, as far away from the corridor as possible. As if that would make this any better.

The man on the other end cleared his throat, sighing before he spoke,  _ “Ben, it’s me...I’m sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t do this but...I think you want me to. After the England camp, I saw the way you looked at me. And I see the way you look at Harry. It’s not the same. You know it isn’t.”  _

A pause, what sounded like traffic, maybe a motorway, _ “I love you but you already know that. We both messed up, but I’m laying it out there. I want you...and I’m pretty sure you want me. C'mon Chilly, it’s you and me. It's always been us right? Stop lying to Harry but more importantly, stop lying to yourself. If you call me back and tell me we’re done, that you love him, I’ll leave you alone. But I don’t think you do. Not in the same way we love each other. I just miss you so fucking much and I need to know I’m not imagining this. Call me. Or don’t...it’s on you.” _

The phone reeled off it’s robotic options, but Ben had to sit for a minute. His legs buckled and he let himself slide down against the long window, back pressed to the night sky, head resting on the glass. He found his phone again. His hand went to the favourites list in his contacts. Seeing Harry’s name third, below  _ his _ , he felt even worse about what he was about to do.

When Ben had heard  _ his  _ ultimatum he’d panicked; he was young, stupid. The request seemed so simple looking back. All  _ he  _ wanted was to take it to the next level, to have keys to each other’s places. To put a label on it. Which seemed stupid when Ben realised they’d effectively been exclusive for so long anyway. 

But he’d said all the wrong things and he’d ended it with the rather hurtful, ‘This was just sex to me, same as with all the other guys. I don’t need you like that’. He’d left the other man in tears, unsure of his next move. And then Harry had been there, had always worshipped him and he’d decided to let it happen. It was ok for the first few weeks, Ben told himself it was just a rebound, but then he never really left. The last few months had been pretence, he’d gone from wanting to prove a point to forgetting what that point was or why it had even mattered. All it meant now was just pain, needless hurt.

> _ It's natural to find someone to treat you right _
> 
> _ But it ain't right if you fuck him out of spite _

_ **** _

“Harry...” Ben gently woke the freckle-faced man, stroking his cheek lightly.

“Ben?” Harry was confused, then smiling. 

The faint light creeping in through the netted curtains signalled it was dawn.

“Can we talk?”

Harry’s smile disappeared instantly as he saw the serious look on Ben’s pale, tired face. He knew exactly where the conversation was going. He could have avoided it entirely if he’d let himself trust any of his instincts over the past two months. Instead he’d just gone along with it. Ben had already let go of his arm, sat back on the bed, phone clutched in his hand. 

“It’s Madders isn’t it,” Harry chewed his own lip. 

He couldn’t maintain eye contact, one glance at Ben made him tear up and he just stared down at the sheets. The sheets that smelled of Ben. Fuck.

“Harry, I...”

“ _ Please _ don’t say you’re sorry. I know he called you tonight when we were at dinner, his stupid grinning face popped up on the screen before you flipped the phone over. I just really hoped you wouldn’t call him back,” he ran his hands over his face, a frustrated noise escaped his throat, “Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”

“Harry, please,” Ben reached out but the older man pulled away, climbing out of bed and pacing in front of the window.

“It’s always been him hasn’t it?” he was shaking now, angry, heart-broken but mostly feeling like a fool, “Everybody told me, but I just pretended they were wrong. Fuck’s sake, I knew it myself. I was just there when he wasn’t, a temporary fix because you can’t be alone. Because you fucked it up. Because admitting you love him is harder than just sleeping with me.”

“Winksy, please,” he made another attempt to get close, not surprised when Harry escaped past him, charging out of the bedroom and into the living room.

Ben followed him out cautiously. 

“No, please, you can’t charm your way out of this one, Ben...” Harry’s voice cut off. He was staring at the suitcase and bag next to the door. “How long has it been going on? God I thought I’d finally got you, but no, you just can’t stop fucking him, going back to him.”

“What? No, no, it’s not like that, please, I -” Ben finally got close enough to look him in the eyes, “Can you just listen to me, please? I can’t say the  _ right _ thing, but you still need to hear it.”

“Fine,” he tried his best not to cry. 

“I tried to convince myself that this was what I needed, what I wanted. I’ve not cheated on you...not physically anyway. But it’s him. You’re right, it’s always been him and I’ve lied. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this, fuck, I never wanted you to get hurt, Harry.”

“But here we are. Did you ever love me?”

“Yes, but...Madders, it’s...”

“He’s special?”

Ben shuffled, “Yeah. He left me a voicemail and I just...Anyway, he’s come to pick me up and I know you don’t want to hear a sorry. But I  _ am _ sorry, Winksy, I am.”

Harry nodded, not holding in his tears anymore. He let Ben hug him, but he wouldn’t look at him and he was glad that the defender didn’t linger in his flat.

****

James tried his best to stay still. Despite a rather enthusiastic reunion in Ben’s bed, the defender had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted after their in depth conversation on the car journey back. James was too excited to sleep just yet. He was content to watch over the dark-haired boy. It was a rare occasion where he actually felt like the older one of the two. 

He reached for his phone. He’d tried composing a message a few times already but he finally bit the bullet and hit send, it read simply:

> _ Winksy, I really am sorry that you got hurt. Please don’t hate Ben, I made the contact tonight, not him. _

He cracked a couple of fingers, chewed a nail and aimlessly scrolled Instagram as he waited for a message back. A small vibration and Harry’s response popped up. He sensed the freckled man had drafted several things before settling on a response. It surprised him too.

> _ Don’t let him fuck it up this time, Madders. _

James put his phone face down and wrapped his body around Ben. 


	13. After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 13 - After Hours. For me, this was more about the beat for the first part of the song, and a couple of lines that I quote in here that made me want to write this particular fic rather than the full song meaning/lyrics. 
> 
> Although I can imagine it playing out during/after a party/in a hotel room. This is pure morning sex - filth, as James and Ben find themselves in Ross Barkley’s hotel suite after a big party in Dubai during the 2019/20 Premier League winter break this February. Ben is particularly dirty in this.
> 
> Everybody went Dubai during winter break so the idea came pretty easily (pretty sure it is just that though, an idea rather than reality).

It was the change in beat of music that finally woke Ben. He sat up, crick in his neck, as he blinked at his surroundings. Not a bed. Not even a bedroom. Where was he? Why was it so bright?

He had to gently slide Madders’ arm off his hips. The blonde was asleep, wearing nothing but boxers. Ben assessed his own state of undress, just shorts. No sign of the rest of their clothes. The sight of tan, naked flesh, the slight erection in Madders' boxers distracted him. He tried to focus, rubbed his eyes.

Ben had a fragment of a memory of last night flash back to him. He thought he remembered jumping in a pool? Or was it dancing in a hot-tub, grinding up against Madders? Maybe both. No,  _ definitely  _ both he thought as he noticed the blonde's hair. All out of place, no gel left in it; they'd definitely been in the water. He remembered Madders' lips ghosting over his neck, his chest. Teasing him when they thought nobody else could see. They probably all could, they were hardly a well kept secret.

_Focus, Ben._ He couldn't keep looking at the nearly naked midfielder, it made touching him too tempting. Early morning light flooded the room through wall to ceiling windows. His eyes had adjusted to it now. He was in a hotel room, the night was coming back to him. Slowly, anyway. 

This was Ross Barkley’s hotel suite. The suite had contained a who’s who of Premier League footballers last night, a huge party put together by the Chelsea player. A lot of alcohol, a DJ and a  _ lot _ of mayhem. If the British media found out, they'd have a field day at the level of debauchery that had taken place. He smiled to himself at the prospect. They’d been careful with who they let in and phones had been put into a safe to avoid accidental Instagram-posting. Perhaps it’s why Madders and him had been so brazen with kissing each other.

An image of two people throwing Jack Grealish into the swimming pool came back to him. Of somebody ordering an insane amount of pizza. Of strippers and way,  _ way _ too much champagne. Of James dragging him to a secluded corner to press up against him, tongue invading his mouth. Drunk Madders was always so horny. And he knew he’d get what he wanted eventually, drunk Ben got even more bossy.

Ben’s head hurt a little, his throat was scratchy. He reached for a glass on the table that looked like water. Or vodka, he realised as he downed some, face scrunched in disgust. Maybe the hair of the dog would help, he thought drinking more. The silence of the room, other than the pulsing beats of the song, refocused him. It must be early. Or super late depending on your perspective.

Empty bottles, glasses with leftover drinks littered the room. As did a few sleeping bodies, one on a chair in the corner, another laid on top of the piano (Was that?...Yep, that was definitely Tammy Abraham). Ben stifled a laugh.

Had somebody been playing that piano last night? He felt like he remembered their teammate, Ayoze Perez, crooning something in Spanish and Madders dancing on top of it at one point. Ben recalled sitting back and admiring his dancing, turned on. Was that before or after the insane amount of back to back tequila shots? Either way, he had Ayo to blame for that. But Madders had thought it was a great idea and so he'd gone along with it. That probably explained the pounding head. They’d dabbled in every spirit going last night.

The six different doors that led off to different bedrooms were all closed. Presumably even more bodies were splayed out in the various beds. Leaning over the sofa, he could see out onto the terrace, the infinity pool and hot tub were empty now, but the loungers alongside them all had a sleeping man or woman, sometimes both. He caught sight of Ayoze and his friends fast asleep, the early morning sun beating down on them. 

_ Put myself to sleep _

_ Just so I can get closer to you inside my dreams _

_ Didn't wanna wake up 'less you were beside me _

Ben’s attention shifted to his shorts, they were tented around a hard-on. His cock twitched as he put his hand on it. Madders was laid out full-length on the red sofa (why did this room look so much like a porn set, everything plush and red and shiny?!), boxers riding incredibly low on his hips, revealing his treasure trail of blonde hair. Ben licked his lips at the sight and his cock twitched again for attention. 

The clock above the piano told him it was only 6am. They’d only passed out an hour or so previously. Nobody was going to be awake anytime soon, right..?

Well, except for Madders he decided, climbing back onto the sofa, planting kisses on the exposed toned stomach, hand rubbing the blonde’s groin. The sleeping man moaned a little, eyes fluttering. Not fully waking, Ben pushed it further, slipping his boxers off and throwing them aside.

“James, wake up...”

_ ‘ _ _ Cause I want you baby _

_ I'll be livin' in Heaven when I'm inside of you _

_ It was definitely a blessing, wakin' beside you _

James had a semi already from the contact, stretching his arms out, but still not fully awake. Ben took his cock into his hand, palming it slowly but deliberately. His other hand was on James’ head, stroking the blonde hair. No longer perfectly styled. Ben liked it this way. 

“Mmmm, Ben?” James was waking up now, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to sit up.

Ben pushed him back down onto the sofa, taking his cock into his mouth without warning.

“Ah fuck!” the blonde writhed at the initial contact, pulling Ben off him and back up for a messy kiss.

Now awake, James realised where they were. Head doing the maths and running through similar flashback moments that Ben had already experienced. It was only for a moment though, before the dark-haired man was kissing him again, on the neck and shoulders this time, hands creeping back to James’ cock. A pretty major distraction.

“Stop,” he shivered into the defender’s hot breath on his neck, “There’s people everywhere!”

“You saw how much everybody was drinking, they’re not waking up yet...” Ben kissed his pink, swollen lips, “You just have to be quiet. I want you!”

James laughed at him, moaning again as he felt teeth on his collarbone and the hand on his cock moved faster.

“You started this and now you want me to stay quiet?”

“Shhh,” Ben kissed him into submission again, biting down on his lip. "I'm in charge and you will be silent!"

James nodded complicity, his cock bobbing in agreement. His eyes wanted to dart over the room, make sure nobody else was enjoying this show but Ben was on top of him too quickly. Kissing him, grinding their cocks together and James was powerless. He liked being powerless with Ben, it came easily too. He still felt drunk. Or was he just drunk on Ben? Maybe both?

A finger pressed to Ben's lips, it didn’t conceal the smug smile as he climbed off James, turned him over, lifting his arse up, pulling him up onto all fours. Much as James knew he should resist, his body betrayed him, wiggling his rear and coaxing Ben into reaching down to grab his cock from behind. They were already being louder than they both knew they should be. 

Ben wouldn’t deny that it was a huge turn on, knowing a dozen or more people could wake up or walk in on them at any moment. James wasn't particularly quiet when they were alone in their own flat, and he clamped his other hand over the blonde's mouth again.

"Shhh. When I'm finished with you, you won't want to go anywhere and you definitely won’t be able to speak."

James couldn’t resist the defender when he was in this mood, pushing his hips up against Ben and grinding into him. He moaned more into Ben's hand.

"Ben…" 

Ben used two fingers, prepared James quickly but not rough. It didn’t take too much, this was familiar territory to them both and the condom helped. James used the sofa to bury his face in as Ben entered him, stifling his groans and moans as he adjusted to the brunette’s cock filling him.

The blonde grew impatient when Ben gently pulled back an inch or so and then slowly pushed back in. It was just enough contact to tease him, but not enough to hit the sweet spot or help push him towards his own release. Sensing the frustration, Ben let a hand slap the pale flesh, moaning himself as it made Madders' clench around him.

“Mmm, you want it do you.”

It sent Ben into a fucking fervour, having to hold onto James' hips to keep the man beneath him from collapsing against the red sofa. The blonde was incapable of doing anything more complex than burying his moans into the sofa. When he tried to move a hand to his own cock, Ben grabbed it, twisted it behind his back. The motion lifted James slightly, changing the angle at which Ben was now entering him and he squirmed at the sensation.

"No, no touching. I'm going to make you come by just fucking you so fucking good." Ben whispered it into his ear, biting before he pushed back up.

"Mmm, Ben, more, please."

"Yeah, you like this? I'll give it to you, like a pro. Fuck you harder, faster, you won't be able to say anything and you know you can’t scream but you want to because this is fucking good…" 

Ben didn't always talk in such a filthy way, but James loved it when he did. Every word, with his slightly posh voice, just sounded so sexy. 

“Oh fuck, Ben,” the muffled voice couldn’t mutter much else. 

The heavy bass on the song helped drown out the sound of skin on skin. Ben didn't care. If anybody did wake up, he wouldn't notice. His concentration was on his hips, slamming them forward, fucking Madders like their lives depended on it. The blonde was just murmuring gibberish, a hand thrown back that rested on Ben's thigh. As if asking for more.

“I need to watch, it looks so fucking good.”

When Ben pulled out suddenly, Madders groaned. The dark-haired man sat back on the sofa, pushing himself down until he was laid out. He grabbed Madders by the hips and the blonde stumbled, landing atop him. The two giggled, both trying to mask the sound. James let Ben's hands help guide him down, cock sliding back into place, only this time with James in more control.

Ben licked his lips, fixated on watching his cock slide in and out as James bounced slowly.

"Keep your hands away from that cock, I want it to come but no touching! You can come for me can't you Madders? You don't need hands to help you along, you love being fucked too much. Like a good little blonde slut."

James nodded, his eyes rapidly scanning Ben's. He put his hands on the back of his head and he let himself bounce up and down. Ben allowed him the control for a while before he held James up and let his hips buck up. He had a hand squashed against the sofa, knuckles white from gripping it.

"Are you gonna come for me, Madders?"

"Mmmm." The blonde was close.

"Cmon, do it, show me how much you need this."

"Fuck, Ben, I-" James bucked, coming onto Ben's stomach, moans breathy and weak.

"Mmm, so good, Madders. You’re so good to me," Ben pulled him in for a kiss.

"Please, let me…"

James climbed off, slipped off the latex and dropped to his knees before Ben. The mere sight of this, of his messy hair, his eager need to please, almost had Ben coming on the spot. He entered a new realm of pleasure as Madders took his length into his mouth in one movement.

"Oh, Madders, that mouth is so damn perfect."

His hands rubbed down on his own chest and stomach before they settled on James' head. The blonde opened his mouth, letting Ben take control again and fuck his mouth. 

Ben couldn't hold out any longer, biting down onto his lip to not cry out as he came. He watched James swallow before he relaxed and rubbed his eyes again. He suddenly felt exhausted.

"Fuck, you're too good at that."

James was grinning, head tilted, "Why, thank you!"

"Public sex with you is the best. You pretend to hate it but you're such a little slut!"

Ben whined as Madders kissed his way up the defender's body until their lips met. A lazy kiss, both tired. 

"You just can't resist me," James replied.

"I'm surprised that anybody can when you look like this." He was cupping James' face now.

James surveyed the room. Everybody was exactly where they had been before. Asleep, drunk, none the wiser to the sex show they'd missed out on.

"Wanna go find a shower to clean up in?"

Ben nodded, "Mm, let's see if I can't get shower sex out of you too."

“Will you let me lock the door?”

“I’ll think about it.”


	14. Until I Bleed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Track 14 - Until I bleed out. It seems like you could definitely have it on in the background during sex even despite the lyrics/content. Yes, this is more smutty fic, I’ve chosen to interpret the lyrics less as a toxic relationship, but more of one where the infatuation is overwhelming. Based when the two were involved in a photoshoot for Leicester City’s pink away kit ahead of the 2019-20 season. That kit will always be associated with Madders in my mind!
> 
> Sock kink comes up too.

Ben was drunk. So drunk. It was the off-season and he and James had allowed themselves a night of indulgence. A fancy five-course meal in a posh village in Leicestershire, with lots of wine and then when they got home, James tried to pretend he was a bartender, mixing and shaking cocktails like he knew what he was doing. His margaritas were heavy on the tequila, free pouring the best part of a bottle into a cocktail shaker. Ben watched him from the sofa, a glazed smile on his face, in awe of James.

Ben wasn't sure if he'd be able to pinpoint the exact moment that he had fallen irrevocably in love with James Maddison anymore. Perhaps it had been when they first met and he'd just been young enough to not get lost in the feeling. He didn't have the same level of control now. He didn't want it either. 

Almost a year to the day since James had moved to Leicester. He’d become an instant fan favourite and Ben had fallen deeper and harder for him than ever before. He’d heard all the cliches before about people stealing your heart, about meeting the one, about them being your world, your heart skipping a beat at a mere glance from that person. Ben had never imagined he’d feel all the cliches and more when he looked at James.

The blonde hadn’t just stolen his heart, he’d melted it. Being with James was like opening the door when you first pull up at a beach; the smell and the sight invigorate you. Ben knew it bordered on obsession. He knew James felt the same though. The two of them found it too easy to let the world around them disappear and to lose a day or two just by themselves. 

Ben wasn’t sure how date night had turned into him switching on some slow, sexy music and asking James to dress up in the pink Leicester away kit, socks and everything. The three margaritas were likely to blame. Though it was the blonde who’d decided to do a sort of strip tease come lap dance for him. Ben was on the sofa, one hand stroking himself through his trousers as Madders swayed his hips and pulled up the shirt, showing off his abs, one finger between his lips. 

The filthy look in those blue eyes, the strand of blonde hair that had fallen out of place and that smirk...god, Madders looked so fucking sexy. It was hypnotic. Ben ran a hand through his hair, getting even more hot and bothered as the blonde dipped his hips and ground up against him, making the shorts ride up over his thighs.

_ I can't move, I'm so paralyzed _

Ben’s cock was straining through his trousers and Madders giggled at the contact. He was helpless as James pulled him up, dragging him towards the bedroom. He was still dancing as they went. It was a slow transition before they made it to the bed. Ben found plenty of opportunity to almost lose his balance, sending them crashing against the wall, a perfect excuse to kiss as if their lives depended on it before moving another few inches.

Ben, stripped down to just his underwear, perched on the edge of the bed as James switched the music to the bedroom speaker and continued to move his hips. He let his eyes go over every inch of James’ body, taking in the way the kit looked on him, the way the pink made him look even hotter than normal. He reached out, grabbing the shirt and pulling James to him.

The blonde let Ben lift the shirt up and over his chest, dropping it to the floor. Somewhere, Ben had gotten distracted by kissing, James had discarded the shorts too. He was in the process of removing the pink socks with the black hoops around the top when the defender grabbed his arm and pulled it away.

“Uh-uh, keep those on for me,” he whispered, stealing a kiss, “Pull them up over your knees...”

James obliged, naked otherwise, doing a spin to show them off before he lent back in to french kiss the darker-haired man. Ben’s hand found where the top of the socks met white thigh and squeezed, groaning in delight into James’ mouth. Every time he thought the sight of James, or what the blonde did, couldn’t get him any harder, stuff like this happened. 

“Fuck, you look so sexy right now.”

Ben no longer felt intoxicated by just the alcohol. He was drunk on lust, on Madders, on those incredible blue eyes, the slender, smooth thighs, the hair that tickled his face when he moved in to kiss him. 

_ I wanna cut you outta my dreams _

_ 'Til I'm bleeding out _

“If I wear my socks like this every game, how wound up will you get?” James asked, tracing a finger over Ben’s lip.

The darker-haired man bit at it playfully before sucking it in his mouth, eliciting a whimper out of the blonde.

“You know how much it’ll wind me up. Almost everything you do drives me nuts.”

“Good...” James pounced at him and they crashed onto the bed.

They were sprawled across it horizontally. James’ sock-covered legs were brushing Ben’s and the blonde was laying on his side facing him. His eyes sparkled in the light and he was smiling with that tilted head he always did, but more so when Ben was around. That smile only grew wider every time Ben leaned forward to rub his nose or peck him on the lips. 

It was more teasing, both holding back. When the teasing finally ended, Ben climbed on top of James, pinned his arms above his head and leant in. He intended to give James a ‘beg me to kiss you’ pair of eyes but found the blonde was already looking at him like that. He paused to take that look in one last time before succumbing and giving the midfielder what he wanted. It so often went that way. 

“Bend over, I want to be able to see these socks.”

James’ tongue snaked out to lick his lips. He nodded and slipped out from underneath Ben, presenting himself. He liked to distract the blonde as he prepared them both, laying plenty of kisses on his thighs and onto the rounded arse. It was dangerous to have let himself get so wound up before he’d even entered the blonde.

Ben ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself while he slowly began to thrust inside the blonde. He let his hands caress over James’ thighs again, over the top of the socks. He hooked a finger inside, acutely aware of the sensation on the blonde’s bare thigh. He thrust harder, holding them both steady by hooking more fingers in. 

Ben knew the image of himself fucking Madders on all fours, the blonde still sporting those socks, would be burned onto his eyes for weeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this one, or all of these fics, thank you so much! I'd never written a series of fics to a set pattern of songs/an album before but it's been so much fun. It helps that the album is so, so good and that Ben and James continue to be such a writeable duo.


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